When Good Wizards Go Bad
by Ms-Figg
Summary: HGSS A dark alternate ending to DH where Voldemort wins. An on the run Hermione is captured and Snape wants her dressed in red. Could she be the key to Voldemort's downfall? .MF, dark lemons, adventure.
1. A Special Delivery

**When Good Wizards Go Bad**

"Master Snape," a tremulous male voice sounded outside the door.

"Yes?" Department Head Severus Snape snarled, "What is it, Reginald? I am very busy."

The slightly balding wizard standing on the other side of the door paled significantly. Master Snape would Crucio in an instant if displeased. He wouldn't be displeased once he saw what Reginald had for him, but he still might hex before he saw it.

"I have something for you. A gift from the Dark Lord," Reginald said, hoping the invocation of the wizarding world's leader would stem the dark wizard's wrath.

Snape put down his quill and sat back in his chair, eyeing the door.

"Well bring it in, man!" he bellowed.

The door slowly opened, and Reginald cautiously peeked in.

"Gods damn it Reginald, I'm going to hex you if you don't move faster," Snape hissed, his sharp, angular face contorted, his monstrous hooked nose wrinkled with ire.

"Yes, Master Snape," Reginald simpered, pulling in a woman with her hands bound in front of her and a black hood over her face.

"What is this?" Snape demanded as he looked at the woman's tattered robes.

"The . . . the Dark Lord sent this witch to you," Reginald whimpered, hunching a bit.

The Head of Magical Law Enforcement rose to his full height and stalked from around his desk. Reginald scuttled out of the way, wincing as the wizard passed. Snape walked up to the woman and roughly ripped the hood from her head. He stared at her. The familiar riot of chestnut hair, the wide amber eyes.

He smiled. Evilly.

"Miss Hermione Granger," he purred at the witch, "We've been hunting you for two years now. Well, well."

Trembling, Hermione looked up into the sour visage of her former Potions master and killer of Albus Dumbledore. She couldn't speak. Her mouth was bound with tape.

Snape looked over at Reginald sharply.

"Where was she found?" he demanded of the cowering wizard.

"In a brothel, Master Snape," he said in a near whisper, "Madam Nasty's House of Hooch."

"Why that's not even three miles from here," Snape said, eyeing the witch, "So you hid right under my big nose, Miss Granger. And here I was believing you had fled to America with Mr. Weasley and the rest of the blood traitors."

"The Dark Lord says you may do what you wish with her. Imprison her, kill her or keep her. It is a reward for your continued service," Reginald said, trembling.

Snape looked down on the witch, his eyes narrowed. He placed one pale finger under her chin and tilted her head upward, studying her.

"What should I do with you, Miss Granger? Kill you?" he asked her silkily, noting the wild fear in her eyes as he said this.

"Or should I hand you over to the Azkaban guards? They would enjoy you, particularly since you are a whore with experience. They are quite brutal. I hand-picked each one myself to insure they were. It's no picnic at Azkaban, believe me."

The witch's eyes began to water. Yes, she had been a whore but still she didn't want to service a legion of randy guards, especially the kind of guards that now ran Azkaban.

"Or," he said coldly, "should I keep you myself as my servant and slave? I would think I'd better a better choice than Death or Azkaban . . ."

He scraped the edge of the tape away from her skin with one fingernail, then suddenly ripped it from her mouth, the witch letting out a cry.

"Choose!" he hissed at her, "Death, Imprisonment or me?"

Hermione looked up into those cold black eyes and pale contorted face. Cruelty was embedded in the wizard's features. But he worked at the Ministry, so he couldn't be with her all the time. The guards at Azkaban would be ever-present, and death wasn't an option. She had worked so hard to continue living.

"You," she rasped.

The wizard stared at her, then looked over at Reginald.

"Take her to my mansion and have her bathed and fed, then locked in the second floor bedroom. The one with the bars on the window. Be sure anything that can be used as a weapon is removed before she is placed there. If I find anything in that room that can cause potential harm, I will hold you personally responsible, Reginald. That means the scourge," Snape said, picking the hood up off the floor and looking down at Hermione again.

"Y-y-yes, Master Snape," the toady breathed, trembling. He already had decorations from the wizard. He meant what he said as Snape continued to study Hermione.

"And Reginald, tell the elves to dress her in . . . red. A color befitting a fallen witch," he purred, then roughly pulled the hood on Hermione's head and pushed her toward Reginald.

"I will see you when I get home, Miss Granger," he said, the tone of his voice making the witch quake with fear.

"Come along now," Reginald hissed, pulling her out of the door.

Snape returned to his desk and his paperwork.

Now, how did this state of affairs happen? Well, Voldemort figured out that Harry Potter held a part of his spirit and functioned as a Horcrux, and all his other Horcruxes with the exception of Nagini had been destroyed. So he changed his plan of using the Elder Wand to destroy him, which was very good for Snape, because the Dark Lord had planned to kill him too.

When Harry gave in to the Dark Lord's demand that he turn himself over in order to save his friends and presented himself defenseless to be slaughtered by the wizard, Voldemort simply stunned and imprisoned him.

Then Hogwarts and the Ministry fell to his Death Eaters and other minions and he placed himself in power. Snape's reward was a fine mansion and the position of the Department Head of Magical Law, and he headed the most corrupt force of Aurors ever known in wizarding history.

Once Harry's secret was found out and he was caught, Snape decided to just accept the state of things. No one knew his part in all this and so he played the role of the Loyal Servant to the hilt, although his hatred of the Dark Lord had not changed one whit.

Harry Potter was now kept in an undisclosed location known only by Voldemort himself one trusted guard and a handful of house elves that took care of him. Surprisingly, the Boy-Who-Lived was treated quite well as a Living Horcrux. All his needs were met.

And that was what got Hermione caught. Harry had physical needs as well and whores were delivered to him frequently. He fucked them, then they were obliviated and returned to the brothel. When Hermione was delivered to him, she was so shocked to see Harry that her glamour fell.

In turn, Harry was so shocked to see one of his best friends, he immediately cried out without thinking, "Hermione! What are you doing here?"

The guard seized her and reported the witch's capture to the Dark Lord, who in turned ordered her to be delivered to Snape who could do what he liked with her.

So, here she was, being delivered to the House of Snape and a life of servitude.

* * *

A/N: Oh man. Why doesn't my head ever sleep???? Sigh. 


	2. Enter the Bitch

**Chapter 2 Enter "The Bitch"**

Reginald pushed Hermione through the gleaming double doors of the mansion into an immense hallway that seemed to run the length of the building with a number of bevel windows framed by leaded panels on the left side to let in light. The walls were paneled in mahogany with intricately carved lacquered wood trim moldings. On the right was a curved staircase made of varnished oak, that wound upward.

"We're here. Now don't you give me no trouble, witch or you'll be sorry," he said, pulling Hermione's hood off.

The witch blinked and looked around the opulent home. Professor Snape lived here? The Dark Lord had been very generous.

"Most likely you're going to be sorry anyway," Reginald added, pushing her forward.

"Reginald? Who's that?" a husky female voice called.

Both lackey and witch looked upward toward the first landing. A curvaceous, dark-haired green-eyed witch with blood-red lips in a black catsuit and stilettos stood frowning down at them, her eyes resting on the bound witch.

"A gift for the Master from the Dark Lord," the wizard replied.

"A what?" she exclaimed, making her way down the stairs with a scowl.

"A gift," Reginald repeated with a slight grin.

Odessa Divine was Master Snape's witch, or so she liked to think. She was really just convenient, having latched on to the wizard like a leech at one of the many parties Voldemort held for his most loyal servants. Snape moved her into his home and fucked her when he felt the urge. For the most part she was a spoiled lay-about with delusions of being the Mistress of the Manor. The wizard knew she was going to blow a torch when she saw the new addition to the household.

Odessa reached the main floor and walked over to Hermione, examining her.

"What's she doing here?" the witch demanded.

"The Master instructed me to bring her here. She's to be his servant," Reginald replied.

"His servant? In what capacity?" Odessa snarled, looking at Hermione with hatred.

Reginald shrugged.

"In whatever capacity the Master wants, I suppose," he answered the witch.

Odessa scowled blackly.

"This is entirely unacceptable, Reginald! Take her out of here!" Odessa demanded as Hermione looked at her blankly, evidencing no reaction to her anger.

Reginald shook his head.

"Oh no, Odessa. Master said she's to be bathed, fed and locked in the second floor bedroom until he gets home. I'm not taking stripes for you. You may gap your legs for the Master but you have no authority in his house," Reginald said evenly.

Odessa swelled with indignation.

"How DARE you address me in such a manner!" the witch huffed.

Reginald's blue eyes narrowed.

"Don't go giving yourself airs, Odessa. You're just a glorified bedwarmer, not a wife. I can speak to you any way I like," he retorted.

Odessa stamped her foot and looked at Hermione with narrowed eyes.

"You listen to me and listen good, you little bitch. Snape is my wizard and this is my house. Don't think you're going to take either of them over," she snarled at Hermione.

"I'm a prisoner, not a guest," Hermione replied softly.

"If you were a prisoner, you'd be in Azkaban. I'm going to get to the bottom of this, so don't unpack your bags," Odessa hissed, storming down the hallway, her ample hips rolling like thunder.

Both Reginald and Hermione watched her go, the wizard chuckling nastily.

"She'd better watch her mouth when she talks to the Master or she'll end up with it zippered shut. Literally," he said, pushing Hermione toward the stairs.

"Come on, now, up you go. Got to get you bathed," he said as the witch obediently mounted the stairs.

* * *

A/N: A little more. Odessa is a recycled OC from a story called "A Rather Catty Situation." In that story she was trying to steal Snape, who was Hermione's husband away from her. She met a rather nasty end. Great villainess though. :) 


	3. Revelations

**Chapter 3 A Revelation**

Reginald brought Hermione upstairs and into a large bathroom with a sunken tub. It was already filled with hot, sudsy water. Reginald untied her wrists and pushed her toward the tub.

"Strip down, whore," he hissed.

Hermione didn't say a word, but began unbuttoning her robes. She was used to such orders expressed in such a way and tuned out. She always tuned out. A year and a half as every grubby handed wizard's plaything had made her resilent. They could do what they wanted to her body, but they couldn't touch her soul. Not one of them. She was a survivor.

Hermione stripped, then turned to look at Reginald, whose rheumy blue eyes washed over her body. She had a dull, glazed look in her eyes. She was curvy in all the right places, her full breasts brown-tipped and a nest of curly chestnut hair at the vee of her thighs.

"If you weren't the Master's whore, I'd give you a go," Reginald said, "Used goods don't bother me none. But, things being the way they are, get in the tub and scrub. Scrub good," the wizard ordered.

Hermione turned and entered the tub. Reginald noticed four straight, even and cleanly healed scars on the right side of her back, just beneath her shoulder blade as she entered the water.

"What's the scars from, whore?" he asked her.

Hermione sunk into the warm water and picked up the washcloth.

"Blood play. Some wizards like it," she replied, her voice a bit hollow as she began to bathe.

Several house elves popped in.

"Take down the mirrors," Reginald ordered them, "Every one. She could shatter the glass and make a weapon. Ward off the windows too."

"Yes sir," the Head elf squeaked. Three left the bathroom. One stayed to remove the mirror over the vanity.

Reginald closed the top of the loo and sat down on it, watching Hermione bathe.

"Wash your cat good," he growled at her, "The Master's probably going to have to wear ten condoms to fuck the likes of you."

Hermione said nothing to this. She just continued to wash. Nothing the wizard said mattered. She had heard it all. Done it all.

After about twenty minutes of scrubbing under Reginald's watchful eye, Hermione finished bathing, standing up and rinsing off. Reginald muttered something to a house elf and it winked out, reappearing an instant later with towels, deodorant, lotion and a short, red silk nightgown.

Reginald took the towels from the elf and tossed one to Hermione, watching as she dried off. Then he handed her the deodorant and the lotion. His lust was plain on his face as he watched the witch lotion her body, but he made no move. Reginald knew better. The Master was quite covetous about his property, and this witch was his property.

When she finished, he tossed her the nightgown.

"Put it on, whore," he said, watching as Hermione drew it over her head. She knew better than to ask for knickers. She wouldn't get any.

Reginald looked her over.

"All right. You're presentable enough," he said, grabbing her by the wrist and dragging her back into the bedroom.

"The elves will bring you something to eat. You'll stay here until the Master comes," he said to her.

Hermione looked up at him.

"Could I have something to read? Anything will do," she asked the wizard.

"No. Ask the Master when he comes," Reginald said, "I'm only to do what he tells me and he didn't tell me to give you anything to read. Now, stay here. Don't try to get out."

Hermione sat down on the bed as Reginald departed the room.

A house elf walked up to her tentatively.

"What would you likes to eat, Miss?" it squeaked at her.

"It doesn't matter," Hermione said, "Anything will do."

The elf bowed and winked out.

Hermione looked around the room. It was nicely furnished with a king-sized bed, gleaming wood paneled walls, blue silk curtains on the two bevel windows and a blue comforter covering the bed. A large wardrobe stood against the far wall, and an oak dresser with the mirror removed rested against the adjacent wall. Am upholstered wooden chair stood opposite with bed. The only things that detracted from the room were the barred windows.

"Well the accommodations are better than the brothel," Hermione said to herself.

The house elf returned with a sandwich and a steaming bowl of soup. Hermione consumed everything under its watchful eye. The elf made sure to take the utensils. She was to have nothing she could use to harm someone, and even a spoon could be dangerous if used with enough force.

The witch yawned, climbing into the bed and curling up to sleep. That was her usual response when she was between johns. To sleep and hopefully not to dream.

She didn't have to dream however. She was living a nightmare.

* * *

Hermione was awakened by being shaken roughly. She turned over and looked into the pale face of Severus Snape.

"Get up," he hissed at the witch.

Hermione obediently sat up in the bed, then slid over to the side of it, then stood up in front of the wizard, whose black eyes washed over her red-clad body.

"You don't seem any worse for wear. Sit down," he snapped at her.

Hermione sat down on the edge of the bed, looking at the wizard.

Snape pulled the upholstered chair away from the wall and sat down across from her.

"So, you managed to survive by sucking cocks and getting buggered, did you?" he asked the witch.

"Yes," Hermione replied hollowly.

The wizard cocked his head at her for a moment.

"A brothel was the last place I thought you'd be, witch. The desire to live is strong, isn't it?" he asked her.

"Yes," Hermione answered him.

"Yes it is. A person will do whatever is necessary to take his or her next breath. Even fuck complete strangers for money," Snape said, "I take it you've been through the wringer. Young, shapely. How was it fucking old men?"

"I got used to it," Hermione said, her voice toneless.

"Did you have a 'specialty?'" the wizard asked her.

"No. I did everything that was asked of me," the witch replied.

"Mindless compliance, eh?" he pressed.

"Yes," Hermione said.

Snape considered her.

"You are noticeably less talkative than you were at Hogwarts. I guess having an endless amount of cocks shoved into your mouth helped bring that miracle about," he said nastily.

"Possibly," the witch replied, not reacting to the lewdness of his comments. Why should she? They both knew what she was. What she had become in order to keep living.

"You know, I blame you for Harry Potter's death. You and that idiot Weasley. You should have watched him rather than mourn for the dead. The dead feel nothing. It was the living you should have been concerned with. Because of that, he walked straight into the arms of Voldemort and was killed, martyring himself for all of you. And still the Dark Lord killed many. Senseless," the wizard hissed.

Hermione looked at him with more interest now. She and Ron had been in the Great Hall grieving when Harry snuck out of Hogwarts. They had been distracted.

But Snape didn't know Harry was alive? Apparently the Dark Lord didn't tell his loyal servants everything. And what was this about he 'blamed' her? Why would he blame anyone? It sounded as if he didn't want Harry to die. But why? He served the Dark Lord.

"Harry Potter isn't dead," the witch said quietly.

Snape snarled at her stupidity. Of course the boy was dead. Voldemort killed him and took the body away before returning to order the attack on Hogwarts. He witnessed it himself, having arrived too late to stop Harry from giving himself to the despot. All Albus' plans died with the boy.

"Of course he's dead," Snape hissed at her.

"No he's not. I was captured when I was brought to him," the witch said, "I just thought it was another clandestine client who didn't like to visit the brothel. My glamour fell from the shock of seeing him alive. Then he called out my name and the guard grabbed my wand and captured me."

Snape stared at her.

"You lie," he hissed.

Hermione shook her head.

"Why would I lie? It makes no sense. It's not going to help my situation in the least," the witch replied.

But Snape wasn't listening. He was familiar enough with Hermione to know when she was lying. He had taught her for six years.

Alive? Harry Potter was alive?

Good gods. This could change everything.

* * *

A/N: Well as you can see, I didn't clear this out yet. Still working on ANB next chapter. Thanks for reading. 


	4. Snape Acts Quickly

**Chapter 4 Snape Acts Quickly**

Snape realized several things at once. Firstly, Voldemort had lied when he said he killed Harry Potter and disposed of his body. Secondly, Harry's existence was a well-kept secret. He had eyes and ears all over the wizarding world, a plethora of snitches and well-paid informants. Not one had any information concerning this. Thirdly, the whores that were taken to Potter most likely were obliviated before being returned to the brothel. Otherwise, he would have heard the boy still lived. Or young man rather. He was at least twenty now.

Snape's black eyes shifted to Hermione. She was the one mistake. The guard must have been so excited to have captured the witch, he forgot to obliviate her. He'd be killed for that oversight eventually. But that was his problem. Right now, Snape had other things to think about.

"Were you blindfolded when taken to Mr. Potter?" the dark wizard asked her, his belly tight.

"No. We apparated. I was taken to a small mansion that seemed to be on a moor," Hermione said.

Snape nodded. She probably wasn't blindfolded because it was assumed she'd be obliviated afterwards. That was good. Now, as to where this location could be . . .

Suddenly Snape pulled out his wand and pointed it at Hermione.

"Legilimens!" he snarled at the startled witch.

Immediately he was in her mind. It was dark and full of images of naked, pumping wizards performing all types of acts on her. It was worse than any revel. Snape only took a cursory glance at this. It wasn't what he was looking for. He searched, focusing on the memories most distinct, and then he saw it. A stone mansion, well fortified sitting on rolling moors. He studied it until he had it securely in memory, then removed himself from the witch's mind. He stood up and looked down at the witch.

"It appears, Miss Granger, that you are going to be more useful than a mere comebucket," he said to her silkily, "Still, I will return tonight and see just how good a whore you are."

Hermione didn't react to this at all. She had known the wizard was going to fuck her the moment she chose to go with him. Life had its price. He was just another wizard. One out of many.

Snape left, securely warding the room behind him.

He had just started up the hall when a small black cat appeared behind him, running up to the wizard and rubbing against his robes yowling.

He stopped and gave it an irritated look.

"Not now," he hissed, pushing it away with his foot.

But the cat returned, purring, then suddenly leapt off the floor and into his arms, transforming into Odessa.

"Now is that any way to treat your resident pussy?" she purred at the wizard.

Snape dropped her. Luckily, she landed on her feet.

"I don't have time for you, Odessa," he growled, heading for the curved stairwell.

"Oh, but you have time for your little 'gift,'" Odessa hissed, following him down the stairs. "Maybe I should scratch her eyes out."

Snape spun on the stairs.

"If you touch her, Odessa, I'll kill you," he snarled, his eyes full of fury.

Odessa drew back from the wizard in shock. Kill her? Who was this witch?

"You don't mean that, Severus," Odessa said, her bottom lip trembling.

"If you don't think so, try me Odessa, just try me," he growled, glaring at her.

Odessa knew Snape could kill her and get away with it. He was almost all-powerful when it came to the law. As the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement he could commit any crime he wanted and not be punished for it.

Odessa watched as the wizard hurried down the stairs and out of the main doors. The faint sound of apparition followed.

Her eyes narrowed, she made her way up the stairs and down the hall, stopping outside of Hermione's room and drawing her wand.

She'd get to the bottom of this.

* * *

The Azkaban guards were unpleasantly surprised when their boss showed up for a surprise inspection of the prisoners. There were over one thousand of them, all connected to the vanquished Light.

The warden, Gulliver Houley, anxiously escorted Snape down the corridors, the dark wizard looking in on the prisoners. Every one of them was suffering from malnutrition and ill-treatment, some bearing fresh wounds and other signs of physical abuse. Broken arms and legs abounded.

"We've been keeping them just as you ordered, sir," Houley said to the wizard.

Snape said nothing as he looked at the prisoners. He noticed a few empty cells. They should have all been filled.

"Why are these cells empty? I gave strict orders no one was to be killed," the wizard snarled.

Houley looked extremely nervous.

"A few died of natural causes," he explained.

Snape whirled on him and backed him against a wall. The accompanying Aurors did nothing.

"Natural causes? I told you not to make their stay pleasant, not to slowly kill them, Houley. From this point forward, I want every single prisoner fed properly and their injuries treated. No more torture, no more beatings. Anyone, and I mean anyone I find disregarding my orders will wish they were dead, do you understand me? I want these cells cleaned, and clean linens on the beds, an hour and a half of exercise and the condition of every single prisoner improved when I come back in one month. Do you understand me?" Snape snarled at the cowering warden, "If they aren't you will be the first to go under my scourge, Houley."

"Y-y-y-yes, Mr. Snape. I understand completely. Don't worry. There will be vast improvements when you return," the warden said, wondering if this were some new public relations ploy to placate the masses. Not that they needed placating. Most were scared to death of the new regime.

"Now, bring me Kingsley Shacklebolt," Snape demanded. "I will use your office. I wish to interview him."

Kingsley Shacklebolt was the wizard who took over the running of the Order of the Phoenix after Dumbledore's death. Maybe Snape had found out some new information. There were supposed to be pockets of resistance fighters. Shacklebolt was likely in for it.

Ten minutes later, two Aurors brought Kingsley in. He looked terrible. Nothing but skin and bones. He had been a big, burly wizard but now he seemed as weak as a kitten, his black skin ashen and lips chapped. There was a dull look in his eyes as he was helped to a chair in front of the warden's desk behind which Snape sat.

He slumped in it, his head hanging. Snape looked at the guards.

"You may go. I will summon you when you are needed," the wizard said, his face sober.

The two guards left.

Now Kingsley raised his head and looked at Snape, his face showing first recognition and second, abject hatred.

"You," he rasped, "You bloody traitor. You . . . you fucking bastard!"

The wizard tried to rise as Snape pulled out his wand. He managed to stand, rocking unsteadily.

"Go ahead, hex me. Kill me. Anything is better than living like this," the wizard snarled.

But Snape simply cast a silencing spell around them to contain their conversation.

"At least you are living, Kingsley. Perhaps it was to see this moment," Snape replied archly, "Sit back down before you hurt yourself. You're in no condition to deal with me."

Kingsley flopped back into the chair.

"What do you want, Snape?" he asked the pale wizard, hatred boiling through his veins. If he could kill him, he would and with great malice.

"We need the Order," the wizard replied.

Kingsley snorted.

"All the Order is locked up here, you ass. There are no more members on the outside, and I wouldn't tell you where they were if I did know," he hissed.

Snape shook his head.

"I know where they are, Kingsley. Now, you listen to me, and listen good if you ever want to see the outside of this place. Harry Potter is alive," the wizard said.

Kingsley stared at him.

"This is some kind of trick. You're trying to get me to disclose information," Kingsley said.

"I assure you, my information is correct, Kingsley. He wasn't killed. Voldemort has him imprisoned. What I figure is that he discovered that Harry is a living Horcrux and wants to protect him since he cannot generate any more of them," Snape said.

Kingsley frowned at him.

"How do you know this?" he asked the wizard, not daring to hope that he was telling the truth.

"Hermione Granger told me," the dark wizard replied.

"Hermione Granger? She's been captured?" Kingsley asked.

"Yes. Currently she is domiciled at my mansion. But that isn't important. I know you don't believe my intentions are good. How could you? But you will see proof of it in the next month. I have given orders that every prisoner be treated and well fed, and in such a manner I can assure you will be followed. By the time I come to see you again, you and the rest of the prisoners should be in much better shape," Snape said earnestly.

"For what purpose?" Kingsley asked him.

Snape's black eyes glinted at him.

"A coup, Kingsley, a coup," the wizard replied.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. This one is running away with me. I've decided to dedicate ALL tomorrow to ANB, and stop stressing out. lol. So bear with me. Thanks. 888 


	5. Snape Returns Home

**Chapter 5 Snape Returns Home**

When Severus returned to his mansion, he took the stairs and went straight to his bedroom, where he disrobed and took a shower. When he emerged nude, dried off and entered his bedroom, he found Odessa stretched out in his bed, in a sheer black negligee that left little to the imagination. The witch had decided to heed the wizard's warning concerning Hermione and approach the problem another way.

Snape looked down on the witch, who struck a sultry pose, bunching her ample breasts together and looking at him sloe-eyed.

"Your resident pussy is here," she purred at the naked wizard, her eyes falling to his cock, which remained quite flaccid.

"The resident pussy can leave," he replied, opening his wardrobe and removing a pair of black silk pajamas and putting them on. Odessa scowled at him.

"What, you want to spend the night alone?" she asked him as he pulled on his bottoms.

"I have no intentions on spending my night alone. I just won't be spending it with you, Odessa," the wizard replied, shrugging on his top then turning to look at her. "I've already told you I will summon you when I want you. You have no business in my bed without an invitation."

Odessa sat up now, furious.

"What? Are you going to see that skinny little chit you had delivered today?" she asked him.

Snape picked up the comb off his dresser and drew it through his hair a few times before answering the witch.

"Yes I am. She belongs to me. I intended to use her," he replied evenly.

Odessa turned red as fire. Snape looked at her, his eyes hard.

"You'd better think twice before you open your mouth, witch," he said to her in a dangerous voice, "I told you when you moved in here I had no commitment to you. This is just a convenient arrangement between two consenting adults. You live here rent-free, have the run of my mansion, I buy you a few trinkets and I fuck you when I feel the urge. Nothing more, nothing less. You are free to leave here at any time, Odessa, and if you piss me off, I will expel you myself, in that negligee."

Odessa's eyes began to glisten. Snape sighed. He didn't have time for this.

"Odessa, think of it this way. You are delectable, like a fine filet mignon. But sometimes a man wants chuck. Now, out of my bedroom and don't let me find you lurking in the halls outside that witch's door. If I do, you will be looking for new accommodations," the wizard said, pulling Odessa up by the wrist and pushing her toward the door.

"You're a cruel bastard," Odessa hissed, tears streaming down her face.

Snape looked at her as he slid his feet into his slippers.

"I told you that on the night we met," he replied coldly.

* * *

Hermione was roughly shaken awake again. She looked up to see Snape staring down at her, his black eyes resting on her exposed thigh. The nightie had ridden up while she slept. 

"Wake up, witch," he said to her in a low voice. "It's time to thank me for my kindness in sparing you."

Without a word, Hermione sat up on the side of the bed and looked at the wizard, her face expressionless. There was no revulsion, no terror, no reaction at all. Snape marveled at this. He would think the witch would feel a little trepidation at having to service her former teacher, not to mention the man who killed Albus Dumbledore. But she evidenced nothing.

"What do you want me to do first?" she asked him in an almost robotic voice. "Blow you?"

Snape stared down at the witch. She was cold. Unfeeling. And he felt himself becoming extremely aroused about that. Why? He had no idea. Still, he had to address this.

"A frigid whore?" he said to her, both eyebrows raised, "It's a wonder you earned a thing."

Hermione drew in and expelled a breath that made her sound rather tired.

"Most wizards don't care. I imagine you're no different," Hermione replied.

Snape studied her.

"No I'm not," he said, pointing to his extremely tented bottoms. "Now remove your nightie witch. I want to see the body of the whore I'll be riding tonight."

If Snape hoped to hurt Hermione by saying this, he failed. The witch stood up and removed her gown without comment or shame. She could no longer blush anyway.

Snape's eyes drifted over her body. She didn't have Odessa's curves, but was well-formed and feminine. Her breasts were still rather perky despite the amount of handling they must have gone through, and she had a nice flare to her hips, which were slimmer than Odessa's rounded form.

Hermione looked straight ahead, her gaze seeming to pass right through the wizard. She stood as if undergoing a ritual inspection.

And she was.

"Turn around," Snape said in a low voice.

Hermione obediently obeyed him. His black eyes fell on the four perfect scars under her right shoulder blade.

"Bloodplay," he said to her.

"Yes," Hermione replied.

"Are there any other scars?" he asked her.

In response, Hermione sat down on the bed, scooted back, lay down on her back and spread her thighs. On the soft inner flesh were two small equally perfect scars, one on each leg.

Snape looked at her core, his nostrils flaring.

"Sit up," he said.

Hermione did as he asked.

"Did you like it?" he asked her. "Did you like being cut and having a wizard suck and lick on your wounds? Did you like the taste of your own blood on his tongue?"

"It doesn't matter if I did or not," she replied.

"Answer me!" Snape hissed, iron in his voice.

"No. But as I said, it doesn't matter," the witch replied. "I did what I had to do."

Snape stared at her in silence, completely turned on by her indifference.

"What do you think about having to fuck me?" he asked the witch.

"I knew I'd have to do it the moment I said I would come with you," Hermione said.

"But how do you feel about it? You must feel something," the wizard said to her.

"No. I stopped feeling anything when the first john climbed on top of me and took my virginity. I brought a good price too," she said.

Snape thought he detected a bit of bitterness in the witch's voice. But there was no self-pity. No self-loathing. There was nothing there but cold reality and acceptance of her plight.

Something that he understood.

"I have a feeling, Miss Granger, that I can make you feel something," Snape said to her.

The witch let out a little snort.

"I hope you don't think that's because you have a big wand. I see how big the tent is. Trust me, I've had bigger things inside me than you," she said, an empty look in her eyes.

Snape didn't even blink at this. He wasn't talking about his member, which was fairly large. Quite large actually. He'd been known to do some damage with it. But he was talking about something else.

"We'll see witch. Get into the bed," he said, removing his shirt.

Hermione obediently did so, spreading her legs in readiness, that same empty look in her eyes.

Snape stepped out of his slippers and removed his bottoms, his erection springing out. He was uncircumcised, thick and had to be at least ten or eleven inches long. His organ certainly lived up to the promise of his nose. Hermione's eyes flicked over him idly.

She didn't even blink.

"I hope I won't feel the sensation of sliding into a glacier," the wizard said climbing into the bed and lying down beside the witch, tweaking a nipple.

"At least you'll feel something," Hermione replied tonelessly.

Snape looked at the witch. The hell with preliminaries. He wanted to do her and do her now.

It was time to mount the ice hooker.

He had something he knew that would melt her.

* * *

A/N: Well, a bit more. Thanks for reading. 


	6. Reaching Hermione

**Chapter 6 Reaching Hermione**

Snape leaned out of the bed and drew his pajama bottoms toward him, pulling out his wand. He first cast a silencing spell around the room, then leaned back toward Hermione, pointing the tip of it at her pelvis and muttering a spell. A green light appeared at the tip and he waved it over her carefully.

"It didn't turn red. Red means use a condom, now or run," the wizard said to the witch, who didn't respond.

"Now, for a contraceptive spell," the wizard breathed, preparing to cast it.

"No. It's not necessary," Hermione said to the wizard, who looked down at her.

"I don't trust the patch," he said.

Hermione looked at him, her eyes hollow.

"I don't need a patch. I've been sterilized," she said, looking back up at the ceiling.

Snape was at a loss for words for a moment.

"I didn't want to bring any children into a world ruled by Voldemort. I had my eggs removed," the witch said matter-of-factly. "I don't ovulate and I can't breed. The perfect Muggle-born witch for this type of world."

Snape stared at her for a moment, then put his wand back into his pajama bottoms and thrust them under the bed, just in case the witch developed a courageous streak, though it seemed doubtful. Her fire had gone out it seemed. Completely out.

The wizard rolled on top of her, looking down into her vacant eyes. They looked away from him.

"You destroyed your eggs?" he asked her.

"No. They were smuggled out to muggle London to an egg bank and frozen. Someone will find a use for them. I have none," she replied.

Snape shook his head, but found himself still greatly aroused. He began to get a glimmer as to why. It was almost as if he were looking at a mirror of himself. The acceptance of the unacceptable. The choice to live at all costs. Yes, Hermione was like his other half in this aspect. Cold, detached, doing what she must do. Devoid of hope but clinging to her next breath, unable to let go.

"Spread your legs wider," he hissed, lifting his lean body upwards and grasping his member.

Hermione did as he asked, still looking away from him.

"Look at me!" he demanded, and her eyes shifted to him, still empty.

Snape found his mark, slipping into the witch's tightness. It was a myth that too much sex loosened a woman's tightness and as he slid into her heat, the wizard let out a groan.

Hermione said nothing as she felt his size penetrate her, filling her with his lust, his greed, his selfish need to possess her as if he owned her.

Snape held himself up on both hands and whirled his pelvis. That usually got a rise out of witches. He stretched them so much. The wizard's face contorted as her sleeve wound around him, her body actually forced to follow his motion. Still, she said nothing, didn't react.

And even this excited him. Every woman he had ever bedded had cried out, groaned, moaned and shrieked under him. Hermione was different. He began to thrust into her, hard, jerking the witch's body beneath him, grunting in pleasure as she slid over him, as he delved deep into her body. She might be an ice princess but she was warm, tight and good.

Hermione jerked beneath him, her eyes glazed as if she were looking at something distant, something that held her attention, something far more compelling than the wizard sweating over her, taking his pleasure from her body. He could have it. He could have whatever he wanted as long as she managed to continue. Managed to keep living.

Snape dug his toes into the bed, and began to drive Hermione up toward the headboard with the power of his thrusts, pummeling the witch's body for all he was worth. He knew as he did so, this wasn't what would melt her, but he wanted to see how far he could go, how much she could take.

Hermione only expelled a few breaths as she was driven upward, her head finally hitting the headboard, Snape staring down at her in rapt concentration as he pile-drived her body, hammering her, his hips nearly blurring. Even hitting the headboard failed to get a rise out of the witch and Snape withdrew, rising to his knees and dragging her back down the bed and flipping her, forcing the witch to her knees.

"Yessss," he hissed, slamming into her from behind, his loins slapping against her ass as he drove his full length into her brutally, grasping her shoulders and pulling the witch into him to give even more power. He was battering the witch, and still she didn't cry out, not even when he gripped her hair and yanked her head back. By rights, she should have been begging for mercy, but nothing, no nothing came from her.

How much had she gone through to be this way? But Snape loved it. Her strength. Her resignation, her acceptance. It was how she survived.

The wizard fell to the side with the witch, wrapping his arms around her body, spooning around her and driving into her warmth with gusto, Hermione jerking in his arms, that glazed look still in her eyes. The wizard felt himself about to pitch over the edge, but wasn't ready yet and slowed, easing up. It was time to melt this witch.

Snape stroked her slowly, pulling back Hermione's damp curls and resting his lips against her ear.

"Give me an oath," he breathed, still burying himself in her body.

"What?" Hermione replied.

"Give me an oath you will never reveal what I am about to tell you to anyone, witch. I require it," he hissed.

"Fine. I solemnly swear I will never reveal what you are about to tell me," the witch said tiredly, her body rocking gently in the wizard's arms as he continued to fuck her. It was a sad oath, but it took anyway, magic swirling about them.

"I am going to rescue Harry Potter and bring down the Dark Lord," the wizard said.

At last there was a reaction as Hermione stiffened.

"You're lying. You're saying that to be cruel," she said softly.

"I swear that anything I tell you while we are engaged at this moment is the absolute truth," the wizard purred, driving into her harder as his own oath took. Hermione reacted again, turning her head towards him.

"You're really going to save Harry?" she asked him, some inflection coming into her voice.

The wizard smirked.

"We are going to save Harry. You, I and the Order, Hermione Granger," he said, feeling the witch's body coming to life, "And when Voldemort falls, it will all be over. You were glamoured when you were a whore, no one knows what you've done save myself, the guard, Voldemort and Reginald. The Dark Lord will be dead, Reginald obliviated, the guard over Harry either killed or obliviated depending on how hard he fights, and me, I keep many secrets. I will not reveal yours. You can have your life back."

He felt Hermione shudder in his arms, then quake. He pulled out of her and rolled the witch to her back, climbing back on top of her and penetrating her again as tears rolled from her eyes. Proof she was feeling.

"How? How will you do it?" she asked him as he began to thrust into her again, gently this time, his dark eyes focused on her face.

"I am raising an army as we speak. They are weak now, but soon will be fit enough to fight. There are some logistics problems but I am sure, if your brain hasn't been completely pickled by excess sperm, witch, you will help me figure it out. You can still think, can't you?" he asked her, thrusting into her hard for emphasis.

This time, Hermione gasped.

"Yes. If I have enough time," she said to the wizard, her body's motions matching his own now. Snape bit his lower lip as he felt a pulse in his balls.

"You will have a month. I already have a rudimentary plan as to how to get Harry out once we find his location. You will play a large part. As the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement I have powerful resources. Hundreds that can do the footwork for me without question. They blindly follow my every order, though I doubt they will rise up to fight. We won't need them to once the Dark Lord falls. And he will fall," he said to the witch, "The days of darkness are almost over. It was Providence you came to me as you did. You've opened the way, witch."

Hermione blinked up at him, then sobbed again, clutching the wizard to her.

"Yesss, let it out. Let it out, witch," he breathed, beginning to piston into her and feeling her body clutch and tighten around him, Hermione letting out a cry as she climaxed.

Snape followed her with a curse and a whimper, his seed pouring into the witch as she held on to him as if he were the last handhold on earth. Gasping, he fell still, the last pulses of his release thrumming through him. A deep sense of satisfaction washed over him as he looked down at the panting witch, knowing that more than likely this was the first time she climaxed in a long time, if she ever did.

Physically, he could have never reached her, but he knew what she needed. It was the same thing he had needed these past two years.

Hope.

* * *

A/N: All right. Now I'm really going to bed. Next chapter will explain exactly what happened immediately after Voldemort won, some of the dastardly things happening in the wizarding world and why Hermione was forced into this lifestyle. Thanks for reading. 


	7. Hermione, Hogwarts and a History

**Chapter 7 Hogwarts, Hermione and a History**

_TIME: Two Years Earlier  
PLACE: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
SETTING: The Final Battle_

After taking an unconscious Harry to a secret temporary location and warding him in securely, Voldemort returned to the Forbidden forest and led his Death Eaters toward the castle for the Final Battle. He had the boy. Albus was dead. The Ministry was being completely cleansed of those still loyal to the old regime and all that were left to fight were the few inside of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

As they strode across the grounds, Voldemort cast a powerful Sonorous charm on himself and announced his approach. Those within the castle would hear him.

"Harry Potter is dead. He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. "The battle is won. You have lost half of your fighters. My Death Eaters outnumber you, and the Boy Who Lived is finished. There must be no more war."

Voldemort paused for effect, his amplified voice ringing across the grounds and throughout the castle. He held Harry's glasses in his thin, scaly hand. The despot continued.

"Anybody who continues to resist, man, woman, or child, will be slaughtered, as will every member of their family. Come out of the castle now, kneel before me, and you shall be spared. Your parents and children, your brothers and sisters will live and be forgiven, and you will join me in the new world we shall build together."

He stopped speaking. There was silence in the grounds and from the castle as his Death Eaters waited for their orders.

"Come," said Voldemort, moving ahead wearing the great snake Nagini around his shoulder, now free of her enchanted cage.

They continued approaching the castle, the gleeful voices of the Death Eaters filling the night.

"Stop."

The Death Eaters came to a halt; spreading out in a line facing the open front doors of the school. A reddish glow of light streamed from the entrance hall. Voldemort held up Harry's glasses victoriously.

"This is all that is left of your famous Harry Potter," he hissed.

"NO!" Minerva McGonagall screamed in despair, Bellatrix laughing at her anguish as the open door filled with people, the survivors of the battle.

"No, it can't be . . . but Harry's gone! Where is he?" Hermione cried, looking around desperately for any sign of him.

"Harry! HARRY!"

"You see?" said Voldemort, "Harry Potter is dead! Do you understand now, deluded ones? He was nothing, ever, but a boy who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for him! He was killed while trying to sneak out of the castle grounds, killed while trying to save himself—"

Neville Longbottom ran forward and Voldemort blasted him with a loud bang, knocking him to the ground, disarmed and helpless.

"And who is this?" he said in his soft snake's hiss. "Who has volunteered to demonstrate what happens to those who continue to fight when the battle is lost?"

Bellatrix gave a delighted laugh.

"It is Neville Longbottom, my Lord! The boy who has been giving the Carrows  
so much trouble! The son of the Aurors, remember?"

Ah, yes, I remember," said Voldemort, looking down at Neville, who was struggling back to his feet, unarmed and unprotected, standing in the noman's-land between the survivors and the Death Eaters. "But you are a pureblood, aren't you, my brave boy?" Voldemort asked Neville, who stood facing him, his empty hands curled into fists.

"So what if I am?" said Neville loudly.

"You show spirit and bravery, and you come of noble stock. You will make a very valuable Death Eater. We need your kind, Neville Longbottom."

"I'll join you when hell freezes over," said Neville. "Dumbledore's Army!" he shouted, and there was an answering cheer from the crowd."

"Very well," said Voldemort, suddenly blasting Neville again, "We'll just see about that."

Neville fell heavily.

"Take him and bind him," the Dark Lord ordered the closest Death Eaters, who did as he asked, the others holding their wands on the crowd to hold them at bay. They dragged Neville into their ranks.

Voldemort's red eyes washed over the crowd.

"There will be no more Sorting at Hogwarts School," said Voldemort. "There will be no more Houses. The emblem, shield, and colors of my noble ancestor, Salazar Slytherin, will suffice for everyone!"

"Never!" cried Ron and the rest of the crowd roared in agreement.

And then many things happened at the same moment.

They heard uproar from the distant boundary of the school as what sounded like hundreds of people came swarming over the out-of-sight walls and pelted toward the castle, uttering loud war cries. At the same time, Grawp came lumbering around the side of the castle and yelled, "HAGGER!" His cry was answered by roars from Voldemort's giants: They ran at Grawp like bull elephants, making the earth quake. Then came hooves and the twangs of bows, and arrows were suddenly falling amongst the Death Eaters, who broke ranks, shouting their surprise.

Chaos reigned. The charging centaurs were scattering the Death Eaters, everyone was fleeing the giants' stamping feet, and nearer and nearer thundered the reinforcements that had come from who knew where. Winged creatures soaring around the heads of Voldemort's giants, thestrals and Buckbeak the hippogriff scratching at their eyes while Grawp punched and pummeled them, and now the wizards, defenders of Hogwarts and Death Eaters alike, were being forced back into the castle.

Voldemort was striking down witches and wizards, still screaming instructions to his followers as he sent curses flying left and right, people falling like sacks of flour as they fled into the Great Hall.

Even more people stormed up the front steps, the families and friends of every Hogwarts student who had remained to fight, along with the shopkeepers and homeowners of Hogsmeade. The centaurs Ban, Ronan, and Magorian burst into the hall with a great clatter of hooves. The door that led to the kitchens was blasted off its hinges as the house-elves of Hogwarts swarmed into the entrance hall, screaming and waving carving knives and cleavers attacking Death Eaters. Voldemort dispatched about twenty elves with one deadly blast before entering the Great Hall, striking and smiting all within reach before engaging McGonagall, Slughorn and Kingsley.

Hermione saw Bellatrix taking aim at Luna and fired a blast at the witch, who blocked it. Hermione began to battle her, joined by Luna and Ginny. But they were no match for the witch. Hermione was blasted back and Ginny just missed by the killing curse.

"NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!" Mrs. Weasley cried, throwing off her cloak as she ran, freeing her arms. Bellatrix spun on the spot, roaring with laughter at the sight of her new challenger.

"OUT OF MY WAY!" shouted Mrs. Weasley, running through the students, her wand slashing and twisting as she matched Bella's skill, the floor around the witches becoming hot and cracked.

Hermione ran forward again but her view was closed off by fighting bodies. Suddenly, she saw stars as she was hit from behind by a powerful blow to the head, and felt someone grab her roughly, snatching away her wand dragging her through the shifting bodies, yells, screams, smoke and blasts.

She felt herself being taken outside to the grounds, and began to struggle.

"Don't struggle, Mudblood. This is your one chance to live!" hissed a familiar aristocratic voice. Hermione's eyes began to focus as she half stumbled and was half dragged across the grounds.

She saw someone standing in the darkness. It was Draco. And the wizard who had her, his father. Lucius shook her roughly.

"The battle has turned. There is no hope for the Order to win. If you wish to escape your fate, Mudblood, I am giving you a chance. The borders between the wizarding world and the Muggle world have been policed for a long time now. The Ministry has all but fallen to the Dark Lord. Even as we speak, those few officials who tried to remain loyal to the old Order have been rounded up. The Ministry belongs to Voldemort now and the borders are all closed except one, at the Ministry building. Draco can get you in. Together you can flee to Muggle England and beyond. But you must go now. They will soon close that escape as well. Only those with connections to the Ministry can enter. You must take Draco. He can get in. But he has no wand to apparate with and I cannot leave this place. The Dark Lord will know. You can live to fight another day if you go now, witch! Or else, you die here!" Lucius hissed at the witch, shaking her violently.

"Don't be stupid, Granger," Draco said to her, "Let's get out of here! Nothing can be done now!"

Indeed, the sounds of battle were waning, the victorious cheers of Death Eater flowing across the grounds.

"All right. All right," Hermione said, thinking once she was in Muggle London there would be others who would form a resistance. This wasn't over, not by a long shot. Voldemort would not win.

Lucius handed her wand back and pushed her toward the gate.

"Run! Go!" he cried, turning and running back toward the castle, his robes billowing!

"Come on!" Draco cried running into the night.

Hermione followed, then stumbled over something soft. She stood up and illuminated her wand. There, lying on the ground, was Norma Jean Ashton. A brunette Hufflepuff about Hermione's age. She was also a Muggle-born and dead. Very dead. Hermione stared at her face. It was ashen and contorted.

She would never forget that face.

"Come on!" Draco hissed from the darkness, "Before they come searching!"

Hermione left the dead witch's body and followed Draco. They ran through the gate, Hermione grasping his arm and disapparating for the Ministry.

They appeared directly in front of the building. Death Eaters were bringing people out of the Ministry, binding them and dragging them away to be placed in huddled, frightened groups. When they heard the crack of thunder, several looked over at Draco and Hermione.

Suddenly, Draco grabbed Hermione's arm tightly.

"I've caught a Mudblood! Hermione Granger! Harry Potter's best friend!" the wizard cried.

Horrified, Hermione tried to break away from the wizard.

"You fucking bastard!" she hissed at him.

Draco's narrowed gray eyes rested on the witch coldly.

"While they're dealing with you, I'll be able to get to safety. Nothing personal Granger. I'm marked for death and I'd rather you go down than me," he said as the Death Eaters ran forward.

Hermione blasted Draco away from her and began to run, blasts exploding all around her as she disillusioned herself, running in a zig zag pattern..

"Where'd she go?" the pursuing witches and wizards cried, "Spread out! Don't let her get away! The Dark Lord will flay us alive if he finds out we had her then lost her! Check every alley and building!"

Hermione disapparated, reappearing in Knockturn Alley. All around people were looting and fighting. It was chaos. She ran heading toward a building where a crowd of witches were milling about.

Prostitutes.

She turned to run back up the alley when a large group of Death Eaters appeared at the head of it, striding toward her. They were going to collide with her. There were too many to get around without making some contact.

"They've put up a city-wide anti-apparation ward," one Death Eater said to another, "No one will be getting out of here now. We're to check all the birds for glamours. All we have to do is take away their wands. Without a wand, the glamour will fall."

Horrified, Hermione ran back into the crowd of prostitutes and into the brothel, pushing by the whores and gigolos desperately and finding a bathroom, locking herself in.

Removing the disillusionment spell, Hermione looked at herself in the mirror. Dear gods, she was going to get caught if she didn't do something. She tried to disapparate, but couldn't. She could hear the Death Eaters walking through the brothel, demanding the wands of its employees. They were getting closer.

Desperate, Hermione looked into the mirror. She needed to disguise herself. She could think of no one. Then suddenly Norma Jean's ashen face loomed before her and she quickly glamoured herself to look like the witch, scourgified the dust from her robes, made them tighter, then transfigured her wand into a small, clear hair comb and stuck into her mass of curls.

There was a knock on the door.

"Anybody in here?" a gruff voice called.

Hermione centered herself and opened the door, staring into the narrowed, brown eyes of a masked Death Eater.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"I'm . . . I'm Norma Jean Ashton. I work here," Hermione replied.

"Give me your wand," he demanded.

"I don't have a wand. It was broken months ago," the witch lied.

The Death Eater studied her.

"You look kind of fresh for a whore," he said, "Kind of schoolgirl-ish. Must be your kink, eh?"

He licked his lips. Apparently, this Death Eater liked schoolgirls.

"I'm new. I was pregnant when I came here," she said, "I didn't have anywhere to go. They helped me."

"Really?" the wizard said, looking her up and down, "Got rid of the little bastard, eh? Still spoiled though. Anyway, I have to check you for a wand. Can't just take your word for it."

Hermione took it stoically as the Death Eater ran his hands over her body lasciviously, fondling her breasts and buttocks, turning her around and pressing his erection against her ass.

"I'm going to have to come back and see you, Norma," he hissed against her ear. He didn't discover the transfigured comb. Hermione wanted to scream as he violated her, but that would have given her away.

"Come on, Henderson. Stop feeling up the whores. We've got work to do," another Death Eater said, appearing in the doorway. "What's with this bird?"

"Nothing. She's clean," the wizard said, releasing Hermione and exiting the bathroom.

The witch let out a sigh of relief as the prostitutes came streaming back in. The brothel was under lockdown. No one could enter or leave until everything was settled.

Hermione was very lucky. If she had a wand, the Death Eater most likely would have cast a "Finite" spell on her to remove any charms. But since he didn't find one, he didn't bother. He probably would have recognized her instantly. She was on the Ministry's wanted list after all.

"Well, you've all got the night off," Madam Nasty called above the complaining voices, "We're locked in, so just all go to your rooms and rest up. The good thing is no matter who's running the wizarding world, they're still going to need pussy, girls and if we've got anything, we've got that!"

The prostitutes all cackled with laughter and headed for their rooms. Hermione was left standing alone in the large lobby, staring at the heavy, gaudily dressed witch. She wore a sequined red dress on her ample, big bosomed frame, quite a bit of make-up, too much rouge and a pink, feather boa. Her eyelashes looked like splayed spider legs. But her hazel eyes were sharp and intelligent. There was quite a business mind inside of all that gaudiness.

Madam Nasty looked at Hermione.

"You're not one of my girls. I don't have anyone as fresh-looking as you. Who are you and what are you doing here?" the witch asked her, walking up to Hermione and then around her as if sizing her up. She looked into her amber eyes sharply. "You must be hiding. The question is why? And the next question after that is will I turn you over?"

"My name is Norma Jean Ashton. I'm a Hogwarts student. The Dark Lord took over the school. People were dying. I managed to escape by disapparating to the city. Everyone was looting and fighting so I ran into the crowd of women standing outside, then came in here," Hermione said, mixing the truth with a lie. "The Death Eaters already checked me. I lost my wand during the looting."

Madam Nasty narrowed her eyes at her.

"Where's your family?" she asked Hermione.

"I don't have one. My mother died when I was born, and my father was later killed mysteriously. I'm Muggle-born," Hermione said.

Madam Nasty doubted the witch was telling the truth, but most witches who came through her door usually lied. What did matter though was she had been checked by the Death Eaters who believed she was fine.

"So do you have anywhere to go?" she asked the witch.

"No. The school's been taken, and you know how the Ministry treats Muggle-borns now," Hermione said.

Madam Nasty nodded.

"We have a number of Muggle-born witches and wizards here. In our line of work, lineage doesn't matter. No Muggle-borns are ever harassed under my employ," the Madam said, looking Hermione over again. She was a little slender but nicely shaped. Nice breasts and her hips would spread in time.

"So what are you going to do?" she asked the witch.

Hermione looked at her.

"I don't know," she replied.

"Well, you know you won't be able to live in this new government. You'll be imprisoned or worse if you try to make a normal living," Madam Nasty purred at her.

Yes, Hermione knew that was true.

Madam Nasty's face became predatory.

"All right. I'll give you a choice. You can stay here and work for me, or I put you out and the Death Eaters take you. No one stays at Madam Nasty's for free," the witch said.

Hermione looked at her.

"You mean become a whore?" Hermione asked her, "Shag wizards for money?"

Madam Nasty laughed.

"Honey, the first thing you have to learn is all women fuck men to acquire something. His name, his protection, a home, his companionship, children, whatever. Every woman with a ring on her finger is a sanctioned prostitute no matter how highly she thinks of herself or how she looks down on you. She gets a ring, he gets a supposedly exclusive right to go under her robes whenever he feels like it, and pays for the privilege every day. Being a whore isn't much different, except for the variety. It's not too bad really. It becomes a job like any other job after a while," Madam Nasty said. "And the wizards can be very generous if they take a liking to you. You'd be surprised what well-connected men come in here. So what do you say? The bedroom or the door?"

And that was how Hermione Granger fell into the life of a prostitute. Initially, it was very difficult for her. Her first john was a fat, rich wizard of about ninety years old who had a thing for buggering. He paid top galleon to both deflower her and break her in, quite excited to be her first. It had been horrible.

"Such a pretty kitty," he said over and over as Hermione sobbed, "Such a pretty, pretty kitty."

She was careful to keep her glamour up. At first it required constant focus on her part, but became easier and finally next to involuntary because Hermione's intent was focused on survival continuously and became more so as she underwent night after night of whoring. Luckily she was young enough and attractive enough not to be put out as a streetwalker. That happened once you lost your appeal to johns. Most witches started walking the streets in their late thirties or early forties. But they did have good medical coverage and were constantly checked for cleanliness as were their customers. Madam Nasty could lose her livelihood if her girls gave anyone a wizarding STD.

Unfortunately, Hermione became quite popular because she could take anything sexual. Madam Nasty however did not allow her to be beaten or whipped. The freshness worked for her. She was, however, allowed to participate in blood play with one particular wizard who was quite experienced, neat and careful.

Lucius Malfoy, who paid generously for the pleasure.

He wouldn't be pleased to find "Norma" gone.

She had done all right for herself, resigned to her fate after several months of trying to clandestinely find a way out of Wizarding England. They had indeed closed all the borders and no one could leave without express permission from the Ministry. But what was worse, the new regime was still sending letters to Muggle-born witches and wizards of proper age to attend Hogwarts, then when the families were brought to "visit the school" they were never seen again. And there was nothing anyone could do.

Hermione managed to keep her cover for two years before being captured. She eventually acquired another wand, but rarely used it. She kept it with her for appearances. The shock of seeing Harry alive had momentarily caused her glamour to cease functioning, a magical blip. Unfortunately a moment was all it took to change her entire situation. The guard grabbed her wand and she couldn't access the comb in time to change it back and use it. She was carefully checked at the Ministry before being handed over to Snape and the transfigured wand discovered.

But Snape was right. Providence worked in the strangest ways. It seemed all Hermione's suffering, sacrifice and despair ultimately led her to the point she always wanted to be.

On the cutting edge of Voldemort's demise.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. As you can probably tell, I used actual excerpts from "Deathly Hallows" in the beginning of this chapter, slightly altered of course, because Harry wasn't in it. 


	8. Aligning

**Chapter 8 Aligning**

Snape took Hermione several more times during the night, plundering every orifice in an attempt to break her and failing miserably, as well as trying out her other talents, leaning back against the headboard, his face contorted as she performed fellatio on him, stretching her mouth wide around his girth, taking him into her throat as the wizard murmured obscenities in his pleasure and gagged her numerous times.

Still, she was quite talented at it.

Between engagements, he talked to the witch. Groaning, Snape gritted his teeth as the last pulses of his final release died down. He was on top of Hermione and looked down at the witch. She had become more responsive, but still did not cry out under him.

"For the time being, you are my property. This will change once order is restored," he said to the witch as he deflated inside her. "Possibly you feel this arrangement is less than honorable, and it is, but honor is relative. You're a whore after all. In any case, I will most likely be the last man you have to give yourself to in this manner in order to survive. Since I am giving you your life back, having me indulge myself with you is a small price to pay. Don't you agree?"

"It doesn't matter," Hermione said, looking up at the pale wizard's cruel features, "As long as this nightmare ends."

Snape nodded, then slowly withdrew, licking his lips slightly as his cock slipped from her tightness. He shifted over in the bed and lay on his side, looking at the witch.

Hermione looked up at the ceiling, not returning his gaze.

"Can you still brew?" he asked the witch.

Hermione now looked at him, her eyes coming to life even more as she looked a bit excited.

"Yes, though I haven't for a long, long time," she said.

"Good. I don't have the time to give the potion we need the attention required to complete it. I already know you have the skills to create it. You've done it before, with rather disastrous results, although not because of the potion itself. An error in application was the cause of your ruin. I took great pleasure in that little fiasco. It was the best laugh I'd had in years," the wizard said to the witch, who gave only the tiniest frown.

"Polyjuice potion," she said softly.

"Yes," Snape replied, a nasty little smile playing about his pale features as he remembered the cat creature she turned into when she accidentally added a cat hair to the brew rather than the hair of Millicent Bulstrode in her second year. It took a month for her to return to full human form.

"I have a lab in the lower mansion, near the dungeons. You will utilize it and brew the potion. We are going to need several applications. I also need to figure out a way to get the prisoners' wands into Azkaban."

Hermione actually sat up now.

"Azkaban?" she asked him.

"Yes. The Order members are incarcerated there. I convinced Voldemort that it would be a greater punishment to imprison the vanquished rather than kill them. Their suffering could be extended for years. It appealed to the Dark Lord," Snape said softly, rolling to his back.

Hermione looked at the dark wizard rather curiously now. Hope was restoring her somewhat and she was at last interested in something other than getting through another day.

"Can I ask you something, Professor?" she said to him.

Snape's black eyes flicked toward her.

"You can ask, but I won't promise you an answer," he replied curtly.

"Why are you doing this? You are a Death Eater, a servant of the Dark Lord," Hermione said to him.

Snape considered her. Hermione had lived steeped in darkness for the past two years. She knew what it was to live a life that was hated but necessary. The wizard had never been able to talk to anyone about himself. He felt no one could understand what he was and why. But he felt compelled to be honest with the witch, perhaps to purge himself somewhat of the weight he constantly carried.

"I am Dumbledore's man. I have been since the day Voldemort killed Lily Potter. Lily was . . . my friend since childhood. At one time we were very close. Even though she married that undeserving bastard James Potter, I cared for her. She was the only person, the only witch I ever . . ."

Snape's voice faltered for a moment.

"Voldemort lied to me. When he went for the boy, he was supposed spare Lily. He promised he wouldn't harm her. But he did. He killed her. When he returned years later he told me that it couldn't be helped. That she refused to hand Harry over," he continued, his voice becoming raw and his eyes reddening.

"But he lied. He could have stunned her. He didn't have to kill her. He wanted to. He killed her because of how I felt about her, because he wanted all of my loyalty. Voldemort . . . hated love. She was killed because I loved her and I let him know," the wizard breathed. "Albus assured me that he would return. Ever since that day I have longed for his death, longed to avenge Lily. If I can do that, then I will feel some absolution," he said, then looked at Hermione, scowling blackly.

"Don't mistake my feelings for Lily Potter as any indication that I have a heart. I don't. It died with her. This is hatred, Hermione Granger, and hatred is what fuels me," he said. "Nothing more. This is not a noble or heroic enterprise for me. I would raze the entire wizarding world down to nothing but rubble, casualties be damned, to kill the Dark Lord. It is an entirely selfish act."

Hermione simply looked at him. It all made sense now.

"But why did you kill Dumbledore?" she asked him.

"He ordered me to. He was dying. My apparent murder of his nemesis would ease Voldemort's misgivings about my loyalty. It worked. I am one of two wizards allowed in his physical presence. He's become paranoid and fearful since taking over. He believes everyone wants to assassinate him and take his power away. He stays in his fortress day in and day out with his familiar Nagini, seeing no one, sending his orders to the Ministry in various ways. I am the most powerful Death Eater in his service. And the most trusted," Snape said.

"And the one wizard in the world that most wants to see him dead," Hermione said quietly.

"Yes, and you, witch, you are going to help me bring that about," Snape said to her. "Now, as I said I need to get wands into the hands of the Azkaban prisoners. Every wand is tagged with the owners name, catalogued and kept in a room in my department. I need to find a way to smuggle them in and distribute them."

Hermione sat there a moment, then, for the first time in many, many months, the witch slowly smiled. It wasn't a pleasant smile either, almost mirroring the Potions master occasional snarl-like smile.

"Did you say 'catalogued?'" Hermione asked him, one eyebrow arching.

* * *

When Snape emerged from Hermione's room the following morning, he gave the elves instructions to bring the witch garments, food, escort her through the mansion, grant her access to his lab and stores and protect her from harm at all costs. She was not to leave the mansion and there was to be at least one elf with her at all times. If they failed him, what they would get would be much worse than clothes. He could always get more house elves. 

The trembling creatures swore to protect the Miss with all their might.

Odessa was present as the Master of the house gave his elves instructions concerning the little trollop he had sequestered in his room. He was standing in the hall by the front door, about to leave for work, the creatures bunched and bobbing in front of the unsmiling wizard.

Odessa was outraged. Snape had never told his house elves to do anything like this for her. In fact, the creatures acted as if they didn't want to serve her. They were terribly slow responding to her summons and returning with her requests. They always assured her they were giving her "the bestest service" but the truth was, they didn't like Odessa and weren't required to serve her, despite the in-outie she gave the Master.

When Snape left Hermione's room, Odessa had been 'coincidentally' walking down the hallway. The truth was she had lurked about for the majority of the night, completely pissed that the wizard didn't emerge. When he fucked Odessa, when he was finished, he'd send her back to her room or return to his own. He never spent an entire night with her other than the first night he took her.

But the witch didn't dare question him about Hermione or why he was treating her the way he did. The wizard was completely capable of throwing her out on her juicy ass, and would do it, she realized that now. He hadn't even tried to hide the fact he intended to fuck the witch he'd brought home.

Judging by the length of time he'd stayed with her, he had enjoyed his visit.

Snape looked up at the witch standing on the landing.

"Odessa, I want no trouble out of you. The witch has service to do for me and I don't want her disturbed in any manner by your antics. Go shopping or something," he said to Odessa.

"I don't have anything I want to buy," the witch shot back at him.

"Fine. Go buy me something then," Snape snarled at her, "Some dragon skin boots. Size twelve. In black, of course. Take several hours browsing."

Odessa cursed under her breath at the wizard who told the elves to make sure the witch left the mansion before Hermione emerged. If the witch wasn't gone by ten, then contact him. He said this loudly to the creatures, insuring that Odessa heard him.

The elves all looked up at her with narrowed eyes, obviously hoping the witch wouldn't leave the premises. Odessa let out a little shriek of frustration and stormed down the hall to her rooms to get ready to depart the mansion.

Snape shook his head. Why did he even bother with the witch? Other than providing pussy, she was worthless. Simply eye-candy. Greedy, covetous and conniving eye candy. He knew why however.

It was convenience mostly and not having a totally empty house. At least one other human being on the premises.

Snape wondered as he left the mansion, if he would be allowed to keep it. Probably not if the original owners still lived and were in Azkaban. Well, he'd start hiding his money now, just in case anyone wanted him to give that back. No matter what anyone thought, he had earned it under the Ministry despite who controlled it. He was sure there would be a few people who would want him imprisoned after this was all over, but he wouldn't be. Amnesty was going to be required to bring others back into the fold, others who knuckled under and accepted the new regime and acted according to its precepts and laws, no matter how horrible.

But that would all be handled, and Snape really wasn't too concerned about his future after the coup.

No matter what his motivations were, the Potions master would definitely be "The Hero" when this was all over.

And that would work out nicely.

He disapparated, but didn't head to the Ministry. Instead, he appeared in a small, circular throne room made of stone. Torches in sconces on the wall flickered and several small bonfires burned magically. It was hot here. It was always hot. The Dark Lord was reptilian and couldn't generate his own heat. Like a snake, he needed to be kept warm or he would become sluggish. Only Snape and the one guard who protected Harry could enter the Dark Lord's presence this way. Around the fortress was a ward that would kill any unauthorized person who entered the domain, a bloody corpse landing in the throne room. Snape's and the guard's robes were especially charmed to allow them to pass this deadly protection. Any attempt to tamper with the robes' magic had a very unpleasant result.

Death.

"Who comes?" a high-pitched voiced cried from the shadowed throne in the center of the room. The light didn't reach there. Voldemort preferred darkness. Besides, it gave him an advantage. He would see a potential assassin before he or she saw him.

Snape knelt.

"It is your loyal servant, my Lord, Severus Snape," the wizard said silkily.

"Ah, Severus. Come closer," the Dark Lord said, relief in his soft, snake-like voice. "Tell me how my kingdom fares."

Snape walked closer. Nagini rested looped around Voldemort's shoulders and hissed viciously at the pale wizard before them.

Snape had always hated that damned snake.

"It does well my Lord. However, I have been moved to do a bit of public relations for you. My informants tell me there is some underground grumbling that the prisoners at Azkaban are being terribly mistreated, enough of a grumbling that it could become a problem. We do not want the Resistance to strengthen."

Actually, there was no "Resistance" as far as Snape knew. But the despot believed there was in his paranoia and the shrewd Potions master fed that fear, knowing it kept the despot from taking a more active role in his government.

"No. No we don't Severus. What are you doing to combat this?" the wizard asked him.

"I have ordered the warden to temporarily provide good treatment to the prisoners, to build them up so they appear healthy. Then I intend to take a group of reporters into the prison and allow them to interview and photograph the best of the inmates and show them about. Then they will write about the very humane treatment they receive. The grumblings will cease and then we can return to our usual methods of care at Azkaban," the wizard said smoothly.

Voldemort gave a thin smile.

"I like the way you think, Severus. I chose wisely when I made you my right-hand man," he said to the pale wizard, who bowed.

"Thank you my Lord," Snape purred.

* * *

A/N: The plot quickens and thickens. Thanks for reading. 


	9. Snape Returns Something Valuable

**_WARNING: Graphic language/non-consensual sex in this chapter. If such acts disturb you please do not read. Thank you._**

* * *

**Chapter 9 Snape Returns Something Valuable**

When Snape returned home, Odessa was sitting on the stairwell, a bag from Weldon's Shoes and Boots in her hand. She sashayed up to the dark wizard and held it out.

"Your boots," she said, her face frowned up.

Snape took the box out of the bag, opened it and studied the boots, turning them over in his pale hands, frowning.

"I don't like them. Tomorrow you will return them and buy me another pair," he said, tossing them back into the box, closing it and pushing it into Odessa's hands. The witch turned bright red.

"I am not your shopping service, Severus!" she blurted out.

The dark wizard's eyes narrowed.

"You'll be what the fuck I tell you to be as long as you reside in my house, witch," he snarled in a dangerous low voice, advancing on Odessa.

She backed up until her feet hit the stairwell and she fell to the stairs, one hand raised protectively over her face as the wizard leaned over her, his face contorted.

"If you are unhappy here, Odessa, I suggest you go to Lucius," he said to the witch, who looked startled. How did he know about Lucius?

Snape straightened and gave her an ugly little smirk.

"Odessa, you are fucking the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I have eyes and ears everywhere. Every time you've crept to Malfoy Manor while I was at work, I knew about it. Lucius' Manor is under constant surveillance," he said to the witch.

Odessa rose from the stairs shakily.

"You knew? You knew and didn't say anything?" she asked him.

"Of course I knew, you whore. But I didn't care. I don't love you. It doesn't matter to me who sticks his cock in you as long as you don't give me any wizarding STD's when it's my turn. I am familiar with Lucius, and he is clean. If you were to fuck someone who was less than pristine, then and only then would I take issue with it and throw you out. Actually, it is a relief you have someone else to check your cauldron for you. As delectable as you are, Odessa, I'm beginning to find you tiresome," Snape said, his dark eyes glinting at her.

"But I know you have no home of your own to go to, so I will allow you to continue to stay here if you choose to stay. But you will do what I tell you to do while you are in residence in my home, and you will not interfere with the witch I am keeping here," he said firmly.

Odessa blinked at him. What did this mean?

"Does this mean you no longer want me, Severus?" Odessa asked him, her lip trembling.

The wizard's eyes drifted over the witch's curves.

"There are times I do," he admitted, "But they are becoming less frequent. You are a pleasurable distraction and I have other concerns more important to focus on than you. Things are going to change soon, Odessa. Quite soon. Now I must go. Be sure to return those boots."

The wizard strode away, heading for the door that led down to his labs. He wanted to check on Hermione's progress.

"Will I see you tonight?" Odessa called after him.

"No," the wizard called back, turning out of the corridor.

Odessa stood there a moment, clutching the box in her hands. He said things were going to change. How were they going to change? This didn't sound good at all. Maybe she should start making the rounds again and latch on to another rich wizard as soon as possible. Lucius was out of the question. He had a wife and although Narcissa would turn her head the other way concerning her husband's dalliances, she would never stand for Odessa being his mistress. Right now, she was just a plaything, and that's all she'd ever be to the wizard.

Odessa turned and headed up the stairwell to her rooms.

She had to think.

* * *

Snape walked up to the lab door and leaned in, listening intently. He could hear nothing but the bubbling cauldron. Quietly, he opened the door, sticking his head in. Hermione was seated at his desk, reading one of his notebooks. A house elf sat on the floor next to her. Its eyes opened the moment the wizard opened the door, but it said nothing, its ears flattening.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING!" the wizard roared, striding across the room and ripping the book out of the witch's hand. Hermione only flinched slightly as she looked up at the wizard, her chin lifted and her eyes steady. If he were going to strike her, let him go ahead.

Snape did indeed have his hand raised to strike the witch for her audacity in reading his notes, but he faltered as he saw the lack of fear in her eyes.

"These are my personal notes concerning original potions I was developing before I became Department Head. No one is supposed to read these texts! No one!

"I won't steal your work, Professor. I'm not a Potions mistress. I'm a whore," Hermione replied calmly.

"Yes, but not for much longer and you will have to make a living. How do I know you won't go into the field of Potions?" he asked her.

"You don't," Hermione said.

"You're damn right I don't. I am going to ward my books. If you try to read them, you will find it . . . quite painful," the wizard breathed, putting his book back where it belonged. Then he walked over to the large cauldron and peered down into it, studying the contents. He waved his hand over it slightly, scenting it. Then he turned to Hermione who was still seated at his desk.

"Get from behind my desk!" he snarled at her, "This is my lab. You are only using it. You will sit on a stool when you are down here."

Hermione calmly stood up, walked around the desk and over to a stool resting near the cauldron and sat down. The house elf followed her. Snape looked down at the creature.

"You can go," he snapped at it.

The elf winked out, relieved.

"The job you've done so far is adequate," the wizard said to the witch.

"I know," Hermione said. There was no pride in her voice. She was just stating the facts.

"Don't get cheeky with me, witch," Snape snapped at her.

Hermione looked at him with cool eyes and didn't respond. Snape studied her a moment. She was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt with trainers.

"From now on you will not wear any type of muggle clothing. Only traditional robes, with nothing but your undergarments beneath. Understand me?" he said to her in a low voice.

Oh, she understood him all right. The wizard wanted easy access to her body when he wanted it. And most likely, he wanted access to it now.

Sure enough, Snape pulled out his wand, warded the door and cast a silencing spell around the room. He looked at the witch, lust twisting his face.

"Stand up and bend over the counter," he ordered Hermione, starting to unfasten his robes with one hand.

Hermione obediently stood up, walked a little distance down the counter away from the bubbling cauldron and obediently leaned over the counter, Snape following, pulling his robes apart and working on his Slytherin buckle.

Hermione gripped the edge of the counter with both hands, looking straight ahead at the wall as she felt the wizard move behind her, breathing a bit heavily as he wrestled with the front of his trousers. Then she heard him hiss "divesto" and her jeans and knickers were gone, the cool air hitting her flesh.

She didn't react as she felt him grasp her waist with one hand and his hot, hard cock press between her cheeks. She made a slight sound when he entered her hard, thrusting into her body roughly with a groan. Snape reached under her and grasped her breasts tightly through her t-shirt, massaging them roughly as he began to fuck her, jerking the witch's body with the force of his penetration.

"Yessssss," he hissed as he plowed into the nearly silent witch, staring down at her bouncing body, slapping his loins against her ass as he put his full length to her. Gods, she could take it.

"Back to the ice whore again, eh, Miss Granger?" he panted, releasing her breasts and leaning over her, his mouth near her ear as he flexed against her, his eyelids fluttering with pleasure as her wet inner flesh caressed and swallowed him. "Well, I have something that may yet get another rise out of you."

Hermione turned her hand slightly as the wizard held something out next her face. Something she believed she'd never see again.

"My wand," she gasped, trying to straighten. Snape pushed her back down and plowed into her, feeling her body beginning to respond again.

"Yes, your wand," he breathed, "Now fuck me back witch. Show me some gratefulness. Feel something."

"Are you going to give it to me?" she asked him, her voice breaking a bit.

Snape chuckled, still stroking the witch.

"I am going to have to if you are to put your little idea into action, but first you will have to give me an oath that you will not use it on me or to escape me," the wizard gasped at her.

Hermione gave him the oath and the wizard pressed the wand into her hand, releasing it and grasping her waist, tearing into her, feeling the witch tighten around him, approaching climax. He looked down and watched his penetration of her, his thick cock glistening with her lubrication as he buried himself in the witch over and over, pearls of moisture beading his pubic hair. He groaned as he felt her come.

"Yes. Yes. Yes," the wizard hissed as he felt her sleeve writhe and pulsate around his girth, heat and wetness pouring over him. He sped up, his balls tightening as he too approached the pinnacle, then he slammed into Hermione, digging his feet into the floor and arching into her, releasing with a roar, his fingers digging into her flesh as he spurted, shuddering with pleasure.

After a minute or two, Snape withdrew from the witch's body, satisfied. He backed away from her, looking at her round ass and the wetness running down her thighs. There were red imprints of his fingers around her waist, he had gripped her so tightly. One thing was true, however, whore or not, Hermione Granger was a good fuck. It was a pity he had to free her when this was over.

Hermione straightened and turned, examining and caressing her wand as the wizard scourgified himself and fixed his clothing. He looked at the witch, standing there unabashedly naked from the waist down, his come running down her legs. He found it quite compelling. Most witches hurried to clean themselves up after sex. Hermione didn't really seem to care she looked as she did as she reacquainted herself with her wand. It was time for her to snap out of it.

"I suggest you use that to make yourself presentable," the wizard said.

Hermione looked at him a bit insolently. She had been presentable enough when he was laying cock to her, but she scourgified herself and replaced her clothing. She looked up at the wizard.

"Thank you for my wand," she said to him, meaning it.

Snape looked at her.

"It wasn't a kindness, witch. You need it. Tomorrow you will come with me to the Ministry. You will be on a lead. Have you ever been collared?" he asked her.

Hermione nodded.

"Good. I have to make it clear to everyone you belong to me and are being subjugated. You will be carrying parchments with you and taken into the wand room under the guise of cataloging and preparing paperwork to be given to the inmates at Azkaban. You know what to do once you are in there. I will ward you in so you are not disturbed," the wizard said to her.

Hermione nodded.

"I was thinking," she said slowly, "that there are others in Azkaban who aren't Order members, but who could be helpful as well. A number of Muggle-borns . . ."

Snape shook his head.

"Order members are under oath to keep their activities secret. There are a number of snitches in Azkaban, and many of them are Muggle-borns, driven to giving information in hopes of better treatment. So no. Focus only on the Order members," he said.

Hermione nodded. Snape was right. They couldn't take the risk of discovery.

"Come. It will be a few days before you have to work on the Polyjuice potion. We will dine then you will retire to your room for the night. I will not be joining you this evening," the wizard said.

Hermione didn't respond to this.

"I have to provide a maintenance fuck to Odessa," he said, trying to get a rise out of Hermione, who simply replied, "How nice for her."

"Again I tell you to watch your cheek, whore," he snarled at the witch.

Hermione said nothing. Gods, she was so calm it was irritating. Snape was used to people jumping when he was threatening. But a part of him appreciated the witch's courage, foolish as it was. He was completely capable of beating her, but he didn't think it would do any good.

He had decided to surprise Odessa with a visit although he told her he wouldn't be with her tonight. He thought she'd be more appreciative. Plus he wanted to shove his cock down her throat for her cheekiness the day before. Snape was a rather vindictive wizard.

Imagine his surprise when he entered the witch's room to find her gone.

* * *

Odessa returned at about three in the morning, entering her bedroom and raising the torches. Snape was there, sitting in an armchair, his black eyes hard.

"Did you have a good night?" he asked the startled witch silkily.

She was dressed in a slinky, form-fitting black ball gown, with black stilettos. She looked like walking sex.

"Yes. I went to the Wizard's Ball that was held at the Worthingfords tonight," the witch said.

"Perusing the available wizards?" Snape asked her quietly.

"A girl has to look out for herself," Odessa replied, removing her earrings, "You said things were going to be changing. I'm not sure I want to be here for that."

Snape studied her a moment.

"Yes, a witch does have to look after herself. Luckily for you, Odessa, nature provided you with attributes that make that quite easy," the wizard said in a low voice. "So you've decided to leave then?"

"Yes, I have," Odessa said, "I'm not important to you."

"That's true. You aren't," he replied, "When are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow. I've . . . found a place to stay," the witch said, her eyes shifting a bit.

Snape figured she'd given some old geezer a head job at the ball and wormed her way into his mansion or at least an apartment with promises of more to come if he put her up. That was how she landed him after all.

The wizard rose and began to unbutton his robes. He wore nothing under them and his erection was huge and dripping.

"I deserve a good-bye fuck, don't I?" he asked her, letting his robes drop to the floor, his eyes narrowed as he stalked toward her, then grabbed the witch, pulling her tight against his body.

"I . . . I suppose so," Odessa said, trembling a little at the look in his eyes. They looked almost murderous.

"Good," he snarled, turning the witch around and throwing her face first into the bed.

Shocked, Odessa tried to flip over but the wizard held her down, pulling up the slinky gown and ripping off her knickers. He then grasped his organ and placed it between her thighs, rubbing it over her entrance for a moment, listening to the witch gasp with pleasure.

"You've always liked it a bit rough, Odessa," he hissed, shifting his position and dragging his cock higher, resting it against the witch's rectum. Odessa's eyes widened. She hated when he buggered her. He was too big.

"No! Severus! Please!" she cried out, then howled as the wizard penetrated her.

"Good … bye … O … dessa!" he hissed as he took her.

Snape made good and sure that when Odessa did walk away from him the following day, she was walking damn funny.

* * *

A/N: tsk tsk. Thanks for reading. 


	10. Hermione Visits the Ministry

**Chapter 10 Hermione Visits the Ministry**

When Department Head Severus Snape arrived at the Ministry the next morning, he was the subject of many a covert glance from employees. The wizard strode through the building, leading a witch on a leash, her head bowed and arms full of parchments. Occasionally he tugged on the leash, making her run forward.

"That's Hermione Granger," one witch whispered to another, "I heard she'd be captured. She must belong to Snape now."

"I don't envy her," the other witch said, shaking her head, "Death would have probably been kinder than that wizard."

Snape yanked Hermione into his office and slammed the door behind him.

About twenty minutes later, a knock sounded on his door.

"Who is it?" Snape called, his voice harsh.

"It's Wiggins from records, sir. I have evaluations for you to sign, sir. They have to be completed this morning," a nervous male voice answered.

Snape cursed. He had been putting off those evaluations for weeks now. He had to stamp them.

"Bring them in," he said in a strained voice.

Wiggins, a young employee with brown hair and brown eyes entered the wizard's office, several parchments in his hand. He looked around for the witch everyone was talking about but didn't see her. Snape was sitting at the desk, looking more sour than usual.

"Bring them . . . here," the wizard gasped.

Wiggins looked at Snape oddly. His face was contorting and he jumped a bit in his chair.

"Are you all right sir?" Wiggins asked him.

"Shut up and give … methedamnpapers!" Snape snapped.

Wiggins passed the papers to him and watched the wizard arbitrarily stamp "DENIED" on each evaluation for pay raises, his hand and body jerking oddly as he did so. Employees weren't allowed to quit their jobs at the Ministry. They had to be released. So not getting a pay raise meant they would have to continue working regardless. It was a good way to keep employee dissatisfaction up.

"Get out!" Snape said, passing Wiggins the paperwork and stiffening in his chair.

"Yes sir," Wiggins said, giving him one more odd look then exiting the office. It had seemed as if the wizard was fighting some kind of seizure and was losing the battle.

Gasping, Snape slid his swivel chair back from his desk and looked under it at Hermione who had a very satisfied look in her eyes as she gazed back at him. Snape scowled at her as he tucked his now flaccid cock back into his trousers and started buttoning his robes

"Get up here, you minx," he snarled at Hermione, who had just made him come. She had been blowing him the entire time the staff member was there. She could have had the grace to stop, but she didn't. He didn't tell her to after all.

Hermione crawled out from under the desk and stood up, the leash dangling from the green silver-studded color around her neck.

"You should have known to stop. I was talking," he snapped at the witch, who didn't look cowed at all. He told her to suck his cock and she did as she was told.

"I do what I'm told to do, and you didn't tell me to stop," she said back to him calmly.

It was the first time she had ever enjoyed doing performing fellatio on a wizard, though she didn't say it. Perhaps it had something to do with the awkward position she had put Snape in.

"I couldn't tell . . . oh never mind," he spat, standing up and grabbing her leash roughly. "Grab those parchments and let's go."

Hermione obediently picked up the stack of parchments and followed Snape, her head lowered as she was taken through the outer office to a room that held several lockers. Snape unlocked the first three. Inside were stacks of wands, all tagged with a number, a name and the offense of the prisoner to whom it belonged. Order members had a big red "O" stamped beneath their names.

"You know what to do," Snape said as Hermione set the parchments on a desk and retrieved a stack of wands and set them down next to them. A quill and ink bottle rested on the desk.

She sat down picked up the first wand, read the information and then transfigured it into a piece of parchment and with the quill, wrote the owner's name on it. Then she transfigured a piece of parchment into a tagged wand with the same name and information and set it aside. If anyone were to try to use it, it wouldn't work. But no one had access to the wands.

Hermione set the new transfigured parchment aside, then went to work on the next one.

Snape watched her for several minutes, then left her to her work, warding her in and giving explicit instructions to the staff that she not be disturbed under threat of scourging. It was quite effective.

By the end of the day, Hermione had successfully transfigured over five hundred wands, and put the replacements back in the locker, carefully separated from those she still had to work on and carried out the transfigured parchments when Snape came to retrieve her.

Snape was quite pleased with the witch, and when they returned home he asked her was there anything she'd like.

"Yes. A night to myself and a good book to read from your library," the witch said to him.

Snape scowled a bit at this. He wanted to have a celebratory fuck with the witch. Ah well, he could do her in the morning before he took her back to the Ministry to finish up. He took Hermione to his library and watched as she perused his books and selected one on Charms. He then had a meal with her and escorted her to her room where she was warded in for the night.

The dark wizard then returned to his study and had several Firewhiskeys. Things were moving according to plan. The transfigured parchments would be passed out to the prisoners under the guise of being statements to be filled out attesting to the humane treatment they received at Azkaban. They would supposedly be collected the day the reporters were to come. In exactly thirty days, they would turn back into wands and the prisoners would use them to overpower the guards and imprison them, then access the Port key supply room and be transported to the Ministry building. The overthrow would be witnessed by Daily Prophet reporters and photographers, thus insuring that Snape would be seen as the mastermind of the coup.

Hopefully the Order would not be required to fight once they got to the Ministry building, if Harry had done his job. Snape hoped Harry wasn't as boneheaded as he remembered. The boy had to catch on quick if he were to do his part.

Snape hadn't wasted his day. While Hermione worked, he had called in a sketch artist and deposited the memory of the mansion Hermione had shared with him into a pensieve and had it drawn. He then had the image duplicated and passed out to all of his informants, snitches, Aurors and the general public. If a Ministry employee found the location of the mansion, he or she would be rewarded with a two-week paid vacation. There was no vacation time currently so the prize would be very sought after. There was a fifty galleon reward for anyone else who could give the location. Snape was sure someone would come forward.

He soon had to return to the Dark Lord to give him his treatment of elixir. While there, he would retrieve the Elder Wand. The despot had tossed it carelessly in one of the many back rooms and no longer gave it a thought now that he had Harry. Snape had seen it on numerous occasions, but had no desire to acquire it . . . until now.

That wand belonged to Harry. He would need it to accomplish what he needed to accomplish.

The wizard drank his final Firewhiskey and headed to his room, pausing outside of Hermione's room for a moment, then continuing on.

She'd just have to relieve his morning hard-on.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. 


	11. The Final Piece to the Puzzle

**Chapter 11 The Final Piece to the Puzzle**

Hermione did finish transfiguring the wands into parchments and Snape did manage to acquire the Elder Wand without any complications since he was required to go into the lab off of the throne room to prepare Voldemort's elixir. He simply pocketed the wand, brought the elixir to the despot, who carefully checked its signature to make sure it wasn't altered, then drank it down.

Snape also made the arrangements with the Daily Prophet to bring several reporters and photographers to Azkaban for a tour and to interview a few of the prisoners. He then went to Azkaban itself with the parchments and told the warden his plans and gave him the parchments to be distributed to each prison. Houley looked over the forms which basically asked each inmate to describe his treatment at the facility. Snape pressed the importance that each parchment be given to the prisoner it was addressed to and they were to keep them with them until the day the reporters arrived so they could actually witness them being collected. Otherwise they might believe the documents to be falsified.

This made perfect sense to the warden. Snape also requested that the guards be in uniform and ready to be inspected when he arrived, as the show of uniformity would be good press. Houley promised everything would be in order. Then Snape requested to talk to Kingsley in private again, confiding to Houley that the black Auror was seen as the Order's leader, and he would be able to impress his fellow prisoners to act accordingly and that he really was misleading the man. He had no idea that afterwards they would be treated possibly worse than before.

This deception appealed to Houley, who was having a hard time with treating the prisoners well. They were in Azkaban to be punished. He'd enjoy breaking them again.

Snape left Houley feeling well into the loop, and once again used his office to talk to Kingsley, who looked much better than he did the first time. After powerfully warding the office, the two men talked.

"I have to say, Snape, that you really came through. Dumbledore always trusted you for some reason," the Auror said, "Though I still don't understand why you are doing this after you murdered him. You are a criminal in the Order's eyes."

Snape leveled his eyes on Kingsley.

"Suffice it to say Kingsley, I am and always have been Dumbledore's man. The truth of what led to his death will be revealed at the end of all this. Now, you will all be receiving parchments that ask for you to write down how well you are being treated at Azkaban. It is a ruse. The parchments are your wands. In less than a month, on the day I arrive with the reporters, those parchments will turn back into your wands. You are to use them to overpower the guards and take Azkaban. Then you will break into the supply room and use the Port keys there to transport to the Ministry. They are all keyed to that location. They will have to be shared among you . . ."

Snape told Kingsley exactly how he planned to take Voldemort down. The wizard looked at him in disbelief.

"You are risking your life, Snape. It is very dangerous what you are going to do," the wizard said, looking at the pale wizard archly.

"It's worth it if I can help him die," Snape replied, an ugly look on his face, "That is all I want, Kingsley. His death. If I have to join him in the darkness, so be it."

Kingsley nodded. Snape seemed committed.

"Now, let us discuss my future, should I survive. A wizard has to look out for himself and I am giving you back a world. You will become Minister of Magic, and as the Minister, you will have the power to issue rewards . . ."

* * *

Almost everything was in place now. Two weeks had passed and no one had yet come forward with information about the location of the mansion where Harry was. Snape was beginning to worry. They could act without Harry but Voldemort's wrath would be terrible and he would be able to rally help. All his Death Eaters were employed by the Ministry and Gringotts. They were also dissatisfied, but would not go against the Dark Lord. It would be the Final Battle all over again. And Snape's own life would definitely be forfeit. He needed Harry if he were to survive this. So a lot was riding on finding that location. 

Snape had already figured out how to access the guard once he found the location of the mansion. He would simply inform him he located it because he neglected to obliviate the whore he'd captured. This would be horrible news for the wizard because it would mean death if it were found out he had been so lax. The wizard would more than likely be grateful to Snape for telling him and not the Dark Lord. When the wizard let his guard down, he would stun and bind him, then go and speak to Harry.

He'd bring a pensieve. As much as he hated opening up his past with the boy's mother to him, it was necessary, as well as his dealings with Dumbledore and for Harry to discover exactly what the Prophecy had meant.

His sacrifice.

He would have to access the Dark Lord's stronghold, kill Nagini then allow himself to be killed and make Voldemort vulnerable to permanent death. Snape had no doubt Harry would do this.

The idiot boy was a born martyr.

But the way Snape intended to get Harry access would show Voldemort that he had betrayed him, and the wizard would come after him to kill him. He'd be able to locate him by his Mark. There was no place he'd be able to hide. He would have to face him in the mansion. He had some ideas how to sway the confrontation to his favor, with Hermione's help. Voldemort was far more powerful than he was, but there was a chance he could be overcome.

A slim chance, but still a chance.

* * *

Snape continued to engage Hermione, having discovered the best way to get the witch to respond to him was to purr how her freedom was close, and to boost her spirits as he took her. Giving her hope was the way to get his pleasure. The wizard was very aware that Hermione Granger was more than likely to be the last woman he ever possessed before he faced the Dark Lord, and that knowledge served to keep him rather randy. It was as if he were trying to have enough sex to last an eternity. 

Hermione dealt with the dark wizard's hungers stoically, accepting her situation. Besides, one wizard was better than a multitude. He also gave her access to his library and once again she was able to feed her mind, which put her in a better place mentally.

Snape took to spending many nights with the witch. He barely remembered Odessa, who had indeed landed a nice apartment and was being kept as a mistress by a wizard who was over one hundred years of age. She was doted on and spoiled by the old man. All she had to do was imagine she was with someone else when she attended to his needs. It wasn't too bad at all. And there was still Lucius.

Snape lay beside Hermione, who as usual was silent, her hair curling in ringlets and damp from their last engagement. Snape studied her.

"I have intelligence that Ronald Weasley is in Canada," Snape said to the witch, who looked at him with interest, but said nothing.

"I imagine he will be returning after Voldemort falls. He was quite . . . sweet on you if I remember," the wizard said to her.

"Yes. He was," Hermione said a bit flatly.

"Most likely he will want to pick up where you left off," the wizard purred at her.

"Not when he finds out I'm sterile," Hermione replied. But she didn't evidence any sadness or regret. "Weasleys breed large families. I'm not suitable for a wife any longer. And not just for that reason."

Snape looked at her, wondering how she was going to adapt to a free world again. Suddenly he picked up his wand off the nightstand and pointed it at her.

"Legilimens," he breathed.

For the first time, Snape witnessed exactly what Hermione went through as a whore and some things even made him pale as he watched her being fisted and violated in a number of ways. There was even an incident when Bellatrix LeStrange was fucking her with a strap-on twice his own girth, cursing because the witch wouldn't scream. No wonder Hermione could take him as she did. She had indeed had larger things inside her body.

But she had suffered before she became stoic, before her body adapted to being used as it was. She had suffered horribly. How would she ever be able to cope with those who had no idea what true suffering was? It was one thing to become a whore because of the inclination, it was another story to become one under duress, because one wanted to survive. She didn't choose her situation, but she had to live with it. Now that her liberty was approaching, she might physically be free, but what about her mind, her soul?

It all had a cost. He knew this for himself.

Hermione lay there impassively as she too witnessed the memories the wizard observed, watching them like a movie, a horrible pornographic movie that had happened to someone else. To Norma Jean Ashton. Hermione had no intention of revealing to anyone how she had survived. Harry was the only one who knew outside of Snape and those who had captured her. She would make up some cover story or simply refuse to talk about it. Harry wouldn't tell. She'd make him take an oath not to reveal what he knew.

Then she would return to as normal a life as she could. Snape withdrew from her mind.

"You're going to be a hero, Miss Granger," he said to her. Snape recognized many of the wizards who had engaged her. Many of them were well-known wizards of means, dignitaries and council members. They would be the same men she would meet at award ceremonies and celebrations once this was all over. But he wouldn't tell her that. She had to experience it for herself, and deal with it.

"You're going to find that . . . quite an experience," was all he said.

"I'll deal with it," she said softly.

Snape looked at her, wondering exactly how she'd do it. Those who knew her before were going to find her a very different witch than the one they remembered.

Very different indeed.

* * *

The very next day, an excited young Auror entered Snape's office with the information he needed concerning the location of the mansion. In his hand he had a realtor's SOLD sheet. 

"I started questioning all the brokers in the area. At first, I couldn't find anything and thought the mansion was outside of England. But then one realtor found this. It had been listed by a Horace Jenkins. He was found murdered two years ago. The purchaser's name is listed as Thomas Marvolo," the Auror said. "It's located . . ."

Snape took the parchment from the Auror, thanked him and issued a vacation order with pay for the young man, who happily left his office. His wife would be thrilled.

Snape finally had the last piece to the puzzle. The Polyjuice potion would be finished in about a week and he had three days after to get to Harry and put him on his path.

It was coming down to the wire.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. 


	12. Going for the Gold

**Chapter 12 Going for the Gold**

With Hermione's help, Snape was able to pinpoint the mansion's location by longitude and latitude. Snape wasn't sure if Hermione's ability to see the building was because she was in the presence of the guard. Most likely it was unplottable and beyond the sight of anyone it wasn't keyed to. Snape would have to go there and try and get the guard's attention and make him come out. It shouldn't be that hard, however, being that they both had something in common and that was the ability to be in the Dark Lord's presence. That common thread would be of some use.

The night before the day of reckoning arrived and Hermione questioned Severus about the large number of Order members incarcerated at Azkaban.

"There seemed to only be a handful of Order members when I went to Hogwarts," the witch said to the wizard as he lay naked on his back next to her, "Why are there so many at Azkaban?"

Snape looked at her.

"That is because you only saw those members who were planners and fighters that worked closely with Dumbledore. But the Order was a legitimate organization with a charter and levels of membership. There were other members who donated time, services, skills and the like, who were not 'active' per se in the literal sense. You did meet some of them I believe. Many of those people who came to the aid of Hogwarts during the Final Battle were considered members of the Order. Until that point they served a more supportive role behind the scenes. They also paid a small annual dues and were bound by an oath to support the Order in whatever capacity they could. All charters and membership rosters are kept at the Ministry, and when Voldemort came into power, anyone affiliated in any manner with the Order was summarily arrested and incarcerated, even if the only thing they did was provide scones for the meetings," Snape explained.

That made sense. The Order did need support like any other institution. Hermione had never thought about that.

"But not being fighters does not mean they will not fight. I imagine they are itching for freedom just as strongly as those who were designated fighters. They might be even more dangerous," Snape said to the witch.

Hermione fell silent for a moment, then looked at Snape.

"Tomorrow really is the day, isn't it?" she asked him softly.

"Yes," Snape replied shortly, looking up at the ceiling and crossing his arms behind his head. His Dark Mark was visible and Hermione studied it for a moment before her eyes fell on the wizard's harsh, sharp features.

"You still haven't told me exactly what you plan to do beyond what is going to happen at Azkaban," she said to him, "You haven't told me how you plan to free Harry."

No, Snape didn't tell her and didn't plan to. Hermione, as non-reactive as she was most of the time wouldn't accept that he was only freeing Harry so he would sacrifice himself and die. Snape needed her on board and hopeful. Knowing that he was sending her friend to his death wouldn't exactly be conducive to that.

"You will find that out when it is necessary," the wizard said, "I need you sharp and not full of worry. Now, you know what you are to do when I leave the mansion tomorrow morning?" he asked her.

Hermione nodded.

"Good," Snape said, then his eyes seemed to grow a bit darker as he looked at the naked witch beside him. "You know that this is the last night of your captivity. Tomorrow you will be free of me one way or the other. There is a good chance I may die, and if I don't die, the wizarding world will be reclaimed and so will your life. Either way, you will be beyond me. You must be happy about that."

"It will be good to be in charge of my own life again," Hermione said, "Though I don't look forward to your death."

Snape raised himself up on his elbow and looked down on the witch.

"I would think that you wouldn't mind seeing me taken off the face of the earth," he said to the witch.

"You are what you are, Professor. Like me. I could have chosen death or Azkaban but I didn't. I chose to come with you knowing what that would mean. But I didn't know that by doing so, I would be able to help bring down Voldemort. Whatever your reasons for doing this, it's still a good thing as well as a risky one. I think I would like to see you survive it, just because it would be nice to have a truly happy ending to something," the witch said.

Snape looked at Hermione, knowing that Harry's death would spoil any possible happy ending for the witch. But she wanted him to survive after all he'd done to her. Gryffindors truly were idiots, no matter how brilliant. If their positions were switched, Snape knew that every breath he drew would have a prayer on it for Hermione's death. Yes, that was the difference between them.

But let her hope for her happy ending.

Hope was what kept her responding to him, and she might be the last woman he ever touched. The thought of that caused an immediate reaction in his loins. It was getting late, but . . . one more time.

Snape shifted, then said to the witch, "Get on top. I want my last bit of pussy from you. Then we must sleep."

Hermione obediently climbed on top of the wizard, who gripped her waist as she grasped his swollen organ and eased down on him, Snape hissing as he looked up into her cool eyes, sliding into her warm, wet sleeve.

"Make it good, witch. You will be free of me after this, free to return to your 'normal' life, for what it will become," he breathed at her.

"And what will you do, Professor?" she asked him as she began to move, whirling her hips the way the wizard liked, twisting him inside her body.

Snape groaned, his eyes closing with pleasure for a moment, then he said, "I will replace you, of course. Find a woman to fulfill my carnal needs and keep her as I did Odessa. Hopefully focus on my art and make a living from it. Live a simple existence. Peace is the closest to happiness I will ever get."

Hermione thought a simple, peaceful existence sounded heavenly. She hoped that was what she would be able to acquire when this was all over. She looked down at Snape, whose black eyes rested on her.

"I'll make it good," she said softly.

And she did.

* * *

The next morning Snape dressed with care, tucking the Elder Wand securely in his sleeve. He had a lot of traveling to do. Hermione watched him with a slight frown on her face as he took a flask and poured only a small amount of Polyjuice potion into it. It was just enough to last fifteen minutes or so. Snape had purposely misled her to think they would be using a large amount of it so that mind of hers wouldn't start percolating. 

"Why are you taking so little potion?" the witch asked him as he capped the flask and put it in his pocket, then picked up the stone he had transformed into a Port key that would bring the user to his mansion. He also deposited it into his pocket. Then he picked up the two last items. The Pensieve he would give to Harry and a second robe. These he reduced and also pocketed. He turned to Hermione.

"The change is only required for a few minutes," he said shortly, then headed up the stairs, Hermione following him. Snape strode for the door, then turned to her.

"You are to start immediately," he told the witch, "Get the house elves to help you. Ideally I will be returning about twelve or so, then we will have about an hour to finish our preparations.

"Preparations for what?" Hermione asked him.

"You'll find out when I return," the wizard said evasively.

"Will Harry be with you?" Hermione asked him as he pulled the door open.

"Yes," the wizard lied, then thought, "In spirit."

That seemed to reassure Hermione. He looked back at her one more time, then closed the door.

Snape stood outside the mansion and focused intensely on the location of the mansion.

He disapparated.

The wizard reappeared on a rolling moor. As he suspected, he saw nothing. He cupped his hands to his mouth.

"Hallo!" he bellowed, "Hallo!"

Inside the mansion, the guard's violet eyes lifted from the Playwizard magazine he'd been perusing.

"What the hell . . ." he said, going to a window and looking out.

"Is that Snape? What is he doing here? No one is supposed to know where this place is," Marcus Delaluci said to himself, staring out at the shouting wizard.

Marcus was a former mercenary for Gringotts Bank. Before that, he served as an assassin for pay. He and Voldemort met some years ago while the despot was still Tom Riddle with aspirations of greatness. He hired Marcus, but didn't give him the Mark, primarily because the wizard's blood was tainted and secondly, he didn't want anyone to know about the wizard.

Marcus was considered a pureblood but he was actually a crossbreed, having a dragon for an ancestor. It had something to do with his grandmother many times removed being sacrificed as a village virgin and the dragon taking a liking to her.

A very great liking.

Voldemort used Marcus' services against his own Death Eaters, using the wizard to take out those he wanted removed, which the wizard did with dispatch. When the Dark Lord captured Harry, Marcus was given the task of watching over him and protecting him. Marcus thought it was quite a cushy gig actually. Harry was easy to get along with after he became resigned to being a well-kept prisoner and stopped trying to escape. Marcus had kicked his ass several times before the boy-who-lived got the message he wasn't leaving.

Marcus also took advantage of Harry's randiness and would use the whores when he was done with them. The dark wizard loved doing it because the whores would protest.

"I was only to do one client," the women would say, and Marcus would rape and brutalize them, then obliviate them afterwards. He was a twisted fuck. But no one was the wiser. It wasn't as if there was a meter on them to count how many cocks were stuck in them on a given day. One more didn't hurt anything as far as Marcus was concerned. If he had gotten to Hermione, she would have been obliviated as well. Marcus had made a mistake.

A costly one.

"Hallo!" Snape called again.

Marcus hesitated. There had to be a reason the wizard was here. Snape could go into Voldemort's presence. Maybe the Dark Lord had sent him here. But if that were the case, Snape would be able to see the mansion. The way he was casting about it was clear he wasn't sure where the mansion was.

"I need to speak with the guard!" Snape called.

Marcus hesitated. Should he contact the Dark Lord? Voldemort didn't like to be disturbed for pittances however and would be angry if Marcus wasted his time. And he really didn't feel like being Crucio'd.

After a moment's hesitation, the wizard walked over to the door and opened it.

Snape suddenly saw a dark rectangle appear and a frowning blonde wizard standing in inside of it. He drew his wand and pointed it at the pale wizard.

"What are you doing here, Snape? No one's supposed to know where this place is. Did the Dark Lord send you?" he demanded.

For a moment, Snape considered saying he did, but decided not to. The guard might check.

"No, he didn't," Snape replied, "I came here on my own, to talk to you and to see Harry Potter."

Marcus looked at him incredulously.

"Oh no. That's not going to happen. I'm going to contact the Dark Lord right now and tell him about this," the wizard said, beginning to focus.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Snape said quickly, "Since the reason I was able to find this place and learn about Harry Potter was because you were lax in your duties. We both know how the Dark Lord rewards laxness."

"Lax? What the fuck do you mean lax?" Marcus demanded.

"You didn't obliviate the whore. Hermione Granger. She told me about Harry being alive," the wizard said.

Oh shit.

Marcus slumped inside the doorway although he still kept his wand trained on Snape. He might have been sent to kill him.

"I'm a fucking dead man," he breathed.

Voldemort was going to be wearing his balls for a necklace.

"However, once I realized your mistake, I obliviated the witch for you," Snape said to the wizard. "I too am in service to the Dark Lord and if the knowledge that Harry Potter lives got out, my job at the Ministry would become that much harder. Some might use that knowledge to rally the masses."

Now Marcus slumped in relief, lowering his wand completely.

"Thanks Snape," he said to the wizard, his eyes grateful.

"However, I would like to see Mr. Potter myself. I think my assistance to you should be worth that," Snape said to him, "I'd like to do a bit of . . . gloating. The boy was an abysmal pain in my arse while at Hogwarts. I took a number of stripes for him."

Marcus looked at the pale wizard consideringly. He had helped him out, and shit, he could still tell Voldemort if he wanted to. The expedient thing would be to kill Snape, but that damned Dark Mark would pinpoint his last location for the Dark Lord when he came up missing. That last location would be the mansion. Damn it.

"Come on in," Marcus said.

Snape approached him and Marcus stepped aside to let him in.

"How is Mr. Potter?" Snape asked Marcus conversationally, seeking to put the wizard at ease.

"He's fine, the pampered little bastard," the wizard replied, walking ahead of Snape and leading him through a large hallway to another part of the mansion.

"He's in here," Marcus said, pushing a heavy iron door open. It was another part of the mansion, rich and opulent.

Suddenly, his eyes telescoped painfully and Marcus spun, his wand drawn, but Snape stunned him before he could cast his own spell. Marcus crumpled. His dragon sense had failed him this go around. He felt the danger, but couldn't move fast enough.

Snape walked forward and plucked the wizard's wand out of his hand, broke it, then cast a binding spell on the unconscious wizard.

"What's going on?" a familiar voice called coming closer. "Marcus?"

Snape stepped through the doorway, his black eyes resting on the young wizard that was to be the wizarding world's lamb for the slaughter. Shocked, Harry stared back at him.

"Mr. Potter I presume," the wizard purred.

* * *

A/N: Ah, a cameo by OC Marcus Delaluci. He's still a pig. lol. Anyway, thanks for reading. 


	13. The Revelation

**Chapter 13 The Revelation**

Harry watched as a young Lily Evans picked up a flower and did magic on it in a playground

_"Lily, don't do it! "Mummy told you not to! "Mummy said you weren't allowed, Lily!"_

_"But I'm fine," said Lily, still giggling. "Tuney, look at this. Watch what I can do."_

_"Stop it!" shrieked Petunia._

_"It's not hurting you," said Lily,_

_"It's not right," said Petunia, "How do you do it?" _

_"It's obvious, isn't it?" a young Snape said, appearing from behind a tree, "You're. . . you're a witch."_

Harry watched a close friendship between Snape and his mother grow, and how he was targeted on the train to Hogwarts by James and Sirius, and what a git his father was. He saw how Severus was sorted into Slytherin and his mother into Gryffindor. He also saw that Snape was hopelessly in love with his mother and how he tried to warn her off of James, telling her that the Gryffindor fancied her.

_"I know James Potter's an arrogant toerag," Lily said, "I don't need you to tell me that. But Mulciber's and Avery's idea of humor is just evil. Evil, Sev. I don't understand how you can be friends with them."_

Then, Harry saw the aftermath of the day by the lake when Snape called his mother a Mudblood. Snape was standing outside of the Gryffindor entrance trying to apologize to Lily.

_"I'm sorry."_

_"I'm not interested."_

_"I'm sorry!"_

_"Save your breath. "I only came out because Mary told me you were threatening to sleep here."_

_"I was. I would have done. I never meant to call you Mudblood, it just—"_

_"Slipped out? It's too late. I've made excuses for you for years. None of my friends can understand why I even talk to you. You and your precious little Death Eater friends—you see, you don't even deny it! You don't even deny that's what you're all aiming to be! You can't wait to join You-Know-Who, can you? "I can't pretend anymore. You've chosen your way, I've chosen mine."_

_"No—listen, I didn't mean—"_

_"—to call me Mudblood? But you call everyone of my birth Mudblood, Severus. Why should I be any different?"_

Lily climbed back through the portrait, leaving Snape behind.

Next Harry was on a hilltop in the darkness. It was cold and windy. Snape was pacing back and forth then fell to his knees as a jet of jagged white light appeared and coalesced into Albus Dumbledore.

_"Don't kill me!"_

_"That was not my intention. "Well, Severus? What message does Lord Voldemort have for me?"_

_"No—no message—I'm here on my own account! I—I come with a warning—no, a request—please—"_

_Dumbledore flicked his wand so silence fell around them.._

_"What request could a Death Eater make of me?"_

_"The—the prophecy. . . the prediction. . . Trelawney. . . "_

_"Ah, yes," said Dumbledore. "How much did you relay to Lord Voldemort?"_

_"Everything—everything I heard! That is why—it is for that reason—he thinks it means Lily Evans!"_

_"The prophecy did not refer to a woman. It spoke of a boy born at the end of July—"_

_"You know what I mean! He thinks it means her son, he is going to hunt her down—kill them all—"_

_"If she means so much to you, surely Lord Voldemort will spare her? Could you not ask for mercy for the mother, in exchange for the son?"_

_"I have—I have asked him—"_

_"You disgust me. You do not care, then, about the deaths of her husband and child? They can die, as long as you have what you want?"_

_"Hide them all, then," he croaked. "Keep her—them—safe. Please."_

_"And what will you give me in return, Severus?"_

_"In—in return? Anything."_

So that was how Snape was pressed into Dumbledore's service, because he wanted his mother protected. Now they were in Dumbledore's office and Snape was there moaning and broken, looking as if he had lived a century since the meeting on the hilltop.

_"I thought. . . you were going. . . to keep her. . . safe. . . "_

_"She and James put their faith in the wrong person, rather like you, Severus. Weren't you hoping that Lord Voldemort would spare her? Her boy survives. Her son lives. He has her eyes, precisely her eyes. You remember the shape and color of Lily Evans's eyes, I am sure?"_

_"DON'T! Gone. . . dead. . . "_

_"Is this remorse, Severus?"_

_"I wish. . . I wish I were dead. . . "_

_"And what use would that be to anyone? "If you loved Lily Evans, if you truly loved her, then your way forward is clear."_

_"What—what do you mean?"_

_"You know how and why she died. Make sure it was not in vain. Help me protect Lily's son."_

_"He does not need protection. The Dark Lord has gone—"_

_"The Dark Lord will return, and Harry Potter will be in terrible danger when he does."_

_"Very well. Very well. But never—never tell, Dumbledore! This must be between us! Swear it! I cannot bear. . . especially Potter's son. . . I want your word!"_

_"My word, Severus, that I shall never reveal the best of you? If you insist. . . "_

Harry watched as Snape continued in his service after Voldemort returned in his fourth year and also watched as he saved Dumbledore who had been stricken by Marvolo' ring. He was going to die. Dumbledore discussed the Dark Lord's plan to have Draco kill him. Harry witnessed the pureblood's attempt at it that night in the tower.

_"Are you intending to let him kill you?" Snape asked the old wizard._

_"Certainly not. You must kill me."_

_"If you don't mind dying," said Snape roughly, "why not let Draco do it?"_

_"That boy's soul is not yet so damaged. I would not have it ripped apart on my account."_

_"And my soul, Dumbledore? Mine?"_

_"You alone know whether it will harm your soul to help an old man avoid pain and humiliation I ask this one great favor of you, Severus, because death is coming for me as surely as the Chudley Cannons will finish bottom of this year's league. I confess I should prefer a quick, painless exit to the protracted and messy affair it will be if, for instance, Greyback is involved—I hear Voldemort has recruited him? Or dear Bellatrix, who likes to play with her food before she eats it."_

Snape nodded curtly.

_"Thank you, Severus. . . "_

Now Harry understood what happened. Why Snape had killed Dumbledore. It was the old wizard's wish. He really was Dumbledore's man. But if Harry thought his journey in the Pensieve was over, he was wrong. There was one more thing he had to see.

They were back in Dumbledore's office, the windows dark, and Fawkes sat silent as Snape sat quite still, Dumbledore walking around him, talking.

_"Harry must not know, not until the last moment, not until it is necessary, otherwise how could he have the strength to do what must be done?"_

_"But what must he do?"_

_"That is between Harry and me. Now listen closely, Severus. There will come a time—after my death—do not argue, do not interrupt! There will come a time when Lord Voldemort will seem to fear for the life of his snake."_

_"For Nagini?"_

_"Precisely. If there comes a time when Lord Voldemort stops sending that snake forth to do his bidding, but keeps it safe beside him under magical protection, then, I think, it will be safe to tell Harry."_

_"Tell him what?"_

_"Tell him that on the night Lord Voldemort tried to kill him, when Lily cast her own life between them as a shield, the Killing Curse rebounded upon Lord Voldemort, and a fragment of Voldemort's soul was blasted apart from the whole, and latched itself onto the only living soul left in that collapsed building. Part of Lord Voldemort lives inside Harry, and it is that which gives him the power of speech with snakes, and a connection with Lord Voldemort's mind that he has never understood. And while that fragment of soul, unmissed by Voldemort, remains attached to and protected by Harry, Lord Voldemort cannot die."_

Harry froze. What? What was Dumbledore saying? He held Voldemort's soul fragment. Fuck! He was a Horcrux!

_"So the boy. . . the boy must die?"_

_"And Voldemort himself must do it, Severus. That is essential."_

There was a bit more, about Snape ranting about how he kept Harry alive to be a lamb for the slaughter and he thought the purpose was to keep him alive and not sacrifice him. But that didn't really register for Harry. All he knew was Dumbledore had kept him safe to give him to Voldemort in the end. He also knew it had to be done.

Harry was released from the Pensieve. He looked up at Snape, who frowned down at him. The left lens of Harry's glasses was cracked and his eye was black and blue from where Snape had punched him when he tried to attack him. After throttling the boy and throwing him around a bit, which the dark wizard heartily enjoyed, he managed to give him the pensieve.

"So now you know," Snape said to Harry, "Your entire purpose was to be killed and release the soul fragment that keeps Voldemort next to immortal," Snape said to him.

Harry said nothing as he absorbed this. Neither could live while the other survived.

"Your purpose hasn't changed," Snape said, "It is either your life or the lives of thousands under the Dark Lord's thumb. Ideally, I would kill you myself and release the fragment, but Dumbledore was so adamant that the Dark Lord be your killer I feel there is something more to it. Perhaps, if we are lucky, he will die as well."

Harry still said nothing, but listened to the wizard.

"Nagini still lives as well. She must be killed before you are," Snape said, then stopped, looking at the boy.

"Mr. Potter, your hour has arrived. You now know your destiny, that which you were born for. Will you shirk that duty? If so, I will kill you now and go for Nagini and the Dark Lord myself, though I doubt I will be successful and all our deaths will have been in vain," the wizard said.

Harry looked up at Snape.

"But Voldemort won't kill me. That's why he kept me here, to protect me, to make sure I lived a long, safe life," the young wizard said to him.

"Oh, I guarantee he'll kill you Harry, just as quickly as he'd kill me if I betrayed him," the wizard purred. "I have . . . a plan."

"Then . . . then I'm willing. His evil has to stop," Harry said bravely.

Snape fought the urge to roll his eyes. Gryffindors and their endless inane declarations of bravado and catch phrases.

"Then here, take this, and listen very closely to me, and I do mean closely. We only have one chance to get this right, boy. Everything will be riding on your dismal ability to follow instructions. Do I make myself clear?" Snape asked, handing Harry the Elder Wand.

Harry stared at it.

"You defeated Draco. The wand belongs to you. It will work," Snape said, "Now, listen closely . . ."

* * *

At precisely ten to eleven, Snape arrived at Azkaban to find all the guards in the prison courtyard decked out in their red and black uniforms and in formation, while photographers took pictures and several reporter were taking statement from Warden Houley. Snape walked up to them. 

"I see you all arrived here punctually. Thank you for coming," he said the reporters.

One of the reporters, a sharp-eyed hawkish looking wizard with a quill behind his ears looked at Snape consideringly.

"Come on, Snape. Tell the truth. Isn't the real reason we're here to make the regime look good? Good treatment for prisoners. Right," he snorted.

Houley looked quite affronted.

"I assure you they are receiving the very best treatment possible. If not for the bars, it wouldn't even seem as if they were imprisoned," the warden said, bristling.

Snape eyed the reporter.

"To be honest, sir, you and your comrades are here to see history being made. Which should happen in about . . ." Snape said, looking at a small magical sundial on his wrist.

"Now," he concluded, "I suggest you step back a bit."

Suddenly a great rumbling arose, echoing all around the courtyard area. The guards and Houley looked bewildered.

"What is that infernal noise?" Houley cried as the thundering grew louder.

Suddenly, several hundred prisoners burst from the entryways surrounding the courtyard, wands extended, shouting, "Freedom! Freedom!"

"I suggest we duck," Snape said to the stunned reporters and photographers, then he hit the deck, followed by Prophet staff.

Hexes flew and loud cries echoed as the Azkaban guards were overrun and overpowered by the freed prisoners. It took all of three minutes. Snape got up off the ground and brushed off his robes as Kingsley walked up. The guards were all being bound and led away to be placed in cells.

"Well done, Kingsley," Snape said as the Auror shook his hand.

The Prophet photographers were wildly snapping photographs of the overcome guards and the warden being led away.

The sharp-eyed reporter ran up to Snape and Kingsley.

"What happened here? Is this an uprising?" he asked excitedly.

Snape nodded.

"Today, my friend is the end of Voldemort's reign. To find out the rest of the story, be on the Ministry steps an hour after I depart," he said to the wizard, "In the meantime, I imagine Kingsley Shacklebolt, who will serve as the new Minister of Magic once Voldemort is overthrown will be happy to answer any questions you have. I must go and make sure the new prisoners are properly secured."

Snape walked away.

The reporter turned to Kingsley.

"What happened here? How did you all manage this?" the reporter asked him.

"I think it's best I begin at the beginning," the wizard said, rubbing his bald head.

Snape oversaw the incarceration of the Azkaban guards and the opening of the supply room where the Port Keys were. At twelve-thirty the Order would all Port Key to the Ministry. If he was not there by one o'clock, they were to storm the Ministry building, open up the floo network and disperse as best they could. They could form a resistance and continue the battle at a later should his plan fail.

At twelve o'clock sharp, Snape disapparated to his next destination.

* * *

At precisely two minutes after twelve, Voldemort was roused by the sound of apparition. He looked up to see his loyal servant kneeling before him. 

"Ah Severus. Arise and come closer," he said to the wizard.

The tall, pale wizard rose, his face like stone as he approached the throne, his wand grasped firmly in his hand.

Nagini lifted her head a foot clear of Voldemort's shoulders and hissed viciously.

Suddenly, Snape's wand hand flashed forward.

" SECTUMSEMPRA!" he roared, cleaning cleaving Nagini's head from her body. Voldemort screamed as his beloved familiar writhed then fell still.

His red eyes ignited with a terrible flame as he snarled at the wizard standing before him, the wand once again at his side.

"You traitorous scum! AVADA KEDAVRA!" Voldemort screamed, rising from his throne, casting the spell, hitting Snape with the dread green light and killing him instantly.

Then the Dark Lord staggered, the throne room spinning wildly. He tumbled down the short dais to the hard stone floor, unconscious.

* * *

A/N: The dialogue in the first part of this chapter is taken verbatim from the Deathly Hallows book and is not my own creation. Other than that, thanks for reading. More to come. 


	14. The Sacrifice

**Chapter 14 The Sacrifice**

Voldemort awoke a few minutes later, dazed. He got his bearings, picked up his wand and stood up. Nagini's severed head lay nearby. He looked at it, and his anger flared.

"Well, I still have Potter," he breathed. He looked over at the tangle of robes that had been what he thought was his most loyal servant.

"Turncoat," he hissed, striding over to the body and kicking it over with his foot.

He stared at it in disbelief for a moment, then screamed, a wild, ferocious, soul-tearing scream, welling up from the depths of his dark, mangled soul.

"NOOOOO!" Voldemort raged as he looked down on the body of Harry Potter. He was dead.

"SEVERUS! YOU HAVE BETRAYED ME! AND YOU WILL PAY!" he seethed, disapparating outside of his stronghold. He touched his wand to his Mark.

"Yesssss. I know where you are you blackguard. You will pay for your treachery and pay dearly! Locomordres!"

Voldemort flew into the air and zoomed away, heading for Snape's mansion.

He would die for this betrayal, and die painfully.

* * *

Harry found himself lying facedown on a solid surface, listening to silence. He was alone. No one else was here. Hell, he wasn't sure that he was here himself. He realized he had all his senses, and that he was buck naked. 

He opened his eyes and saw he lay in a bright mist. He sat up and touched his face. He wasn't wearing glasses.

Then he heard a noise, small soft thumpings of something that flapped, flailed, and

struggled. It sounded horrible. He wished he had some clothes.

Suddenly, robes appeared a short distance away from him. He retrieved them and put them on. They were warm . . . and real. He continued to look around and surroundings formed out of the mist. A great domed ceiling glittered about him with sunlight. It was still quiet except for the thumping sound. It was close. He turned to look to see what it was . . . and recoiled.

There was a thing curled on the ground. It looked a bit like a small naked child, the skin rough and raw. It looked peeled as if the skin had been flayed off of its tiny body. It was shuddering under a seat, as if it had been abandoned.

He drew a little closer, but was too repulsed to touch it or attempt to help it.

"You cannot help."

Harry spun around to see Albus Dumbledore walking toward him, a spring in his step and wearing robes of midnight blue.

"Harry," he said, smiling and spreading his arms. Both his hands were undamaged. . "You wonderful boy. You brave, brave man. Let us walk."

Amazed, Harry followed the old wizard away from the flayed child. They sat down in two seats Harry hadn't noticed before.

He studied Dumbledore. He looked hale and healthy, his long white beard and hair shining, his nose as long and crooked as ever. And the ever-present twinkling blue eyes were in evidence.

"But you're dead." said Harry.

"Oh yes," said Dumbledore matter-of-factly.

"Then . . . I'm dead too?"

"Ah," said Dumbledore, smiling still more broadly. "That is the question, isn't it? On the whole, dear boy, I think not."

"Not?" repeated Harry.

"Not," said Dumbledore.

"But . . . "

Harry went to touch his scar and found it wasn't there.

"But I should have died—I didn't defend myself! I meant to let him kill me!"

"And that," said Dumbledore, "will, I think, have made all the difference."

"Explain," said Harry.

"But you already know," said Dumbledore. He twiddled his thumbs together.

"I let him kill me," said Harry. "Didn't I?"

"You did," said Dumbledore, nodding. "Go on!"

"So the part of his soul that was in me . . .has it gone?"

"Oh yes!" said Dumbledore. "Yes, he destroyed it. Your soul is whole, and completely your own, Harry."

"But then . . . "

Harry looked over at the small flapping thing trembling under the chair.

"What is that, Professor?"

"Something that is beyond either of our help," said Dumbledore.

"But if Voldemort used the Killing Curse," Harry started again "and nobody died for me this time—how can I be alive?"

"I think you know," said Dumbledore. "Think back. Remember what he did, in his ignorance, in his greed and his cruelty."

"He took my blood." said Harry.

"Precisely!" said Dumbledore. "He took your blood and rebuilt his living body with it! Your blood in his veins, Harry, Lily's protection inside both of you! He tethered you to life while he lives!"

"I live . . . while he lives! But I thought . . . I thought it was the other way round! I thought we both had to die? Or is it the same thing?"

The creature thumped again and Harry looked back at it.

"Are you sure we can't do anything?"

"There is no help possible."

"Then explain . . . more," said Harry, and Dumbledore smiled.

"You were the seventh Horcrux, Harry, the Horcrux he never meant to make. He had rendered his soul so unstable that it broke apart when he committed those acts of unspeakable evil, the murder of your parents, the attempted killing of a child. But what escaped from that room was even less than he knew. He left more than his body behind. He left part of himself latched to you, the would-be victim who had survived. And his knowledge remained woefully incomplete, Harry! That which Voldemort does not value, he takes no trouble to comprehend. Of house-elves and children's tales, of love, loyalty, and innocence, Voldemort knows and understands nothing. Nothing. That they all have a power beyond his own, a power beyond the reach of any magic, is a truth he has never grasped. "He took your blood believing it would strengthen him. He took into his body a tiny part of the enchantment your mother laid upon you when she died for you. His body keeps her sacrifice alive, and while that enchantment survives, so do you and so does Voldemort's one last hope for himself."

Harry stared at him.

"And you knew this? You knew—all along?"

"I guessed. But my guesses have usually been good," said Dumbledore happily,

Harry sat there a moment.

"Snape has always been your man, hasn't he?" the young wizard asked him.

"Not always. But when your mother was put at risk, he agreed to be in my service in exchange for her protection. But I couldn't protect her," Dumbledore said sadly.

"But still, he stayed in your service, protected me," Harry said.

"He was protecting Lily Evans child. He was quite angry when he found out you were meant to be killed all along," Dumbledore said. "I had to make him understand why and he was to relay it to you. But things went terribly wrong. Voldemort discovered the secret. Discovered you were a Horcrux and instead of killing you, protected you," the old wizard said.

"I never understood why," Harry said, "He had spent so much time trying to kill me, then when he had me . . . nothing. I was treated decently."

"The bird in the gilded cage," Dumbledore said sagely, "Still I am glad to know that when last came to last, you were willing to sacrifice yourself for the Greater Good. And you have your reward. Severus finally came through."

"Yes, he did," Harry said, looking back at the thing again. He finally realized what it was.

Voldemort.

"I've got to go back, haven't I?"

"That is up to you. But I think you would. Voldemort still lives, but now . . . he is mortal. Now his evil can be removed from the world."

If Snape had been present for this statement, he would have gagged.

Harry nodded and sighed.

"Tell me one last thing," said Harry. "Is this real? Or has this been happening inside my head?"

Dumbledore beamed at him, and his voice sounded loud and strong in Harry's ears even though the bright white mist was descending again, obscuring his figure.

"Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?"

* * *

Snape apparated to his mansion and entered quickly. He looked about, satisfied. Hermione had done her job and done it well. He bellowed for her. 

"Where are you, witch?" he cried, striding down the hall. Hermione appeared.

"Where's Harry?" she asked the wizard.

At that very moment, Snape grasped his arm. His Dark Mark is burning.

"Harry Potter is dead," he said to the witch.

"WHAT!" Hermione screamed, "What do you mean he's dead. You said you were going to rescue him!"

Snape looked at her, his eyes hard.

"I said I was going to free him. He went to face the Dark Lord, and Voldemort killed him," the pale wizard said.

Hermione stared at him for a moment, then her face took on a murderous mein.

"You set him up! You meant for him to die!" she scream at him, "You murdering manipulative bastard! And to think I helped you!"

Suddenly Hermione whipped out her wand.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" she screamed.

Nothing happened.

Snape looked at her soberly.

"A good thing I had you take that oath," he said to the witch.

Hermione launched herself at Snape, clawing at his face like a madwoman. The wizard tussled with her a bit before slapping her to the floor.

"Look. You're going to have to get in line to kill me. Voldemort is on his way here to punish me for my treachery. He knows he's killed Potter now," the wizard said. "Let us attempt to kill him first, then deal with our own issues."

He began to walk down the hall, wrapping his cloak around him. Hermione got up and watched him walk away for a moment, then ran after him.

"What do you mean he knows he killed Harry now? Didn't he realize it?" she asked the wizard.

"No. He thought he killed me. Mr. Potter was polyjuiced to look like me. He killed Nagini, then Voldemort killed him, freeing the soul fragment that tethered him to life," Snape said, hurrying to the furthest reaches of the mansion.

"Soul fragment? What the hell are you talking about?" Hermione demanded.

"Your Mr. Potter was the seventh Horcrux. He wasn't purposely created but was created just the same when Voldemort was destroyed the first time," Snape explained, walking quickly.

"A Horcrux? Harry was a Horcrux?" she repeated, stunned.

"Yes. Albus knew this. I was to tell him once he was ready to face Voldemort. He had to die in order to insure Voldemort could not return. Albus had known this all along. Even I wasn't aware of it all the years I protected the boy. It was his destiny. Now Voldemort can be destroyed for good, and it's up to you and I to do it if you are willing to put your life on the line."

Hermione fell silent. So Snape only did what Dumbledore instructed. Send Harry to face Voldemort and be killed. It was horrible, but she could understand it. It was the only way. And the method had been ingenious. Harry had to have gone of his own free will, or Snape probably would have killed him himself and freed the fragment.

Snape gasped again, staggering against the pain shooting through him.

"He's here," the wizard said, drawing his wand, "If you fear for your life, Miss Granger, I suggest you make yourself scarce."

Hermione looked at Snape. He was in pain. He couldn't do this alone.

"I'm staying," she said.

"It's your funeral," Snape replied, "Or could be."

* * *

A/N: The scene with Dumbledore was paraphrased from Deathly Hallows. The unnecessary portions were edited out. Thanks for reading. 


	15. Facing Off with Voldie

**Chapter 15 Facing Off with Voldie**

Voldemort landed in front of Snape's mansion. He could feel the wizard inside. On his way, he had taken a small detour to the former domicile of Harry Potter and killed Marcus while he lay bound on the stone floor.

The violet-eyed wizard looked up in terror as his Master strode in, his crimson eyes narrowed.

"My Lord," he said desperately, struggling in his bonds, "Let me explain…"

"You failed me," Voldemort hissed, casting the Killing curse on the wizard, then exiting without as much as a backwards glance at Marcus' lifeless body, taking off again to find his other so-called 'servant' and give him his reward.

Voldemort walked up to the gleaming doors of the mansion.

"Reducto!" he snarled, blasting them to splinters then entering. Immediately, he stopped, shuddering.

The entire inside of Snape's mansion was coated in ice. It was freezing. Voldemort couldn't function in the cold. His nature was reptilian. He couldn't generate his own heat. The despot wrapped his robes around him, his small pointed teeth chattering.

"Damn him!" he hissed, casting a warming spell around himself, then running forward. He would have to move quickly. Warming spells had to be constantly reapplied and weakened when other spells were cast.

Snape heard the blast. He was no longer in pain however. Voldemort couldn't maintain his torture and do other magic.

"He's coming. Get ready," Snape said, dragging a table from the wall to the middle of the hallway and turning it over so it served as a barrier. It wasn't much. Then he ran over to the far wall and pressed himself against it, gesturing to Hermione to do the same thing on the other side. Voldemort would assume they were behind the table and they could ambush him.

Hermione readied herself, her wand drawn.

Voldemort came into view, his eyes on the table.

"You can't hide from me, Severus!" he cried, blasting the table. Oddly, it didn't burst apart, but slid further down the hall.

"Sectumsempra!" Snape roared, jumping forward and slashing at Voldemort, who whirled back quickly, his robes sliced but his body unharmed.

Voldemort screamed a counter spell, a huge serpent of fire emerging from his wand and bearing down on the Potions master, its mouth of flame agape and ready to consume him. Snape reactively threw up his arms, stunned by the thing flying toward him.

"Aguamenti!" Hermione cried, firing a deluge of water at the fiery creature, putting it out before it reached the wizard.

"You bitch!" Voldemort hissed at the witch, "Where did you come from?"

He tried to throw a hex at Hermione but Snape cast a "Confringo" spell, or Blasting curse which the despot barely managed to block. The cold was getting to him and he was becoming sluggish. He cast another warming spell on himself then slashed at Snape, then Hermione sending bolts of energy towards them.

They both managed to block his spells, equally amazed that they were able to do so. Voldemort was so powerful he should have been able to rip through their defenses. The trio whirled and danced, throwing hex after hex, none of them managing to do any damage as spells flew.

"We're getting nowhere," Hermione panted.

"Keep going!" Snape hissed, "We've got to get through and don't have much time!"

They continued battling the despot, who was equally puzzled as to why he hadn't blasted them to pieces yet. He was the Dark Lord. No one was a match for him.

* * *

Harry appeared in front of Snape's mansion, the Port Key the wizard had given him in his hand. He could hear the sounds of battle and gathering up the robes he wore, which were a bit too long because they belonged to Snape, he ran through the mansion toward the noise, looking in wonder at all the ice everywhere 

He saw Voldemort, Snape and Hermione dancing about, spells flying and ricocheting off of the smooth ice that coated as they battled. Hermione slipped and the wizard snarled "Reducto!" firing the hex at Hermione, whose wand had fallen from her hand.

"Protego!" roared Harry, and the Shield Charm expanded and protected Hermione as Voldemort turned to see the source of the spell. His eyes widened as he saw Harry, alive and well.

Snape took advantage of the despot's surprise, ran over and grabbed Hermione, pulling behind the overturned table.

"The Calvary has arrived," he said, peeking over the top.

"But how? How is Harry here?" Hermione asked.

"Who cares?" Snape said, "He's here."

Harry walked toward Voldemort, his eyes narrowed. The lens of his glasses was still cracked from Snape punching him.

"Why does Harry have a black eye?" Hermione asked Snape, who didn't answer her.

Voldemort held his wand in a defensive position, unsure of what was happening here. He had killed Harry. He knew he did. How did he come back?

"I don't want anyone else to try to help." Harry said loudly, "It's got to be like this. It's got to be me."

"I will give you no argument, Mr. Potter. Now, less talk more Avada Kedavra!" Snape called back.

"Potter doesn't mean that," Voldemort hissed. "That isn't how he works, is it? Who are you going to use as a shield today, Potter?"

"Not me," Snape muttered as Hermione scowled at him.

"We should help Harry," Hermione said to the pale wizard, who looked at Hermione as if she were insane.

"Unlike yourself and at times, Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, I DO know how to follow instructions. If you want to go out there and possibly ruin Potter's concentration and get us all killed, forget it."

"I'm going," Hermione hissed, starting to rise.

"Petrificus Totalus!" Snape intoned, hexing the witch, catching her stiffened form and laying her prone on the floor. Hermione's amber eyes shifted back and forth furiously. The wizard looked back at Harry and Voldemort, who were circling each other.

"It's just you and me," Harry said to the wizard, "Neither can live while the other survives, and one of us is about to leave for good. . . ."

"But why, Harry? You can live in the lap of luxury for the rest of your days. Pampered and well-cared for. Treated like a king. Why risk death when your life could be a fairytale?" Voldemort lisped at him.

"While everyone else lives in the hell you've created? I don't want to live that way. I can't live that way. One of us has to die. I'm no longer a Horcrux, so you don't have to protect me any longer. You're mortal now. So if I kill you, you won't be coming back from it," Harry said victoriously.

"Gryffindors talk too fucking much," Snape said, his black eyes flicking down to Hermione, whose eyes were still furious.

Voldemort heard him.

"After I deal with this worthless sap, Snape, it will be your turn," the wizard cried, "To think I trusted you!"

Snape made an obscene gesture at the despot, who snarled at his audacity. But he kept his wand trained on Potter. Snape would get his. He'd quarter the bastard.

"You won't be killing anyone else," said Harry as they circled, and stared into each other's eyes, green into red. "You won't be able to kill ever again. Don't you get it? I was ready to die to stop you from hurting people—"

"But you did not!"

"—I meant to, and that's what it did. I've done what my mother did. They're protected from you. Haven't you noticed how none of the spells you put on them truly affected them? You can't torture them. You can't touch them. You don't learn from your mistakes, Riddle, do you?"

"You dare—"

"Yes, I dare. I know things you don't know, Tom Riddle. I know lots of important things that you don't. Want to hear some, before you make another big mistake?"

"Is it love again? Dumbledore's favorite solution, love, which he claimed conquered death, though love did not stop him falling from the tower and breaking like an old waxwork? Love, which did not prevent me stamping out your Mudblood mother like a cockroach, Potter—and nobody seems to love you enough to run forward this time and take my curse. So what will stop you from dying now when I strike?"

"Just one thing."

"If it is not love that will save you this time you must believe that you have magic that I do not, or else a weapon more powerful than mine?"

"I believe both."

"You think you know more magic than I do? Than I, than Lord Voldemort, who has performed magic that Dumbledore himself never dreamed of?"

"Oh, he dreamed of it," said Harry, "but he knew more than you, knew enough not to do what you've done."

Snape was drumming his fingers on the edge of the overturned table now, holding up his head with his other hand, a bored expression on his face. Gods, this was taking forever. Why did the final face-off have to occur between two self-important arseholes who loved to hear themselves talk? Good grindelows. Kill each other already!

"Fuck Dumbledore. He's dead. At least Snape killed him and his body decays in the marble tomb in the grounds of Hogwarts. I have seen his corpse, Potter and he will not return," Voldemort declared, hurling the words at Harry as if they would cause him terrible pain.

"Yes, Dumbledore's dead," said Harry calmly, "but you didn't have him killed. He chose his own manner of dying, chose it months before he died, arranged the whole thing with the man you thought was your servant."

"Too much information, Mr. Potter," Snape called.

Gods, he loathed Gryffindors. They could keep nothing to themselves.

"What childish dream is this?" said Voldemort.

"Severus Snape wasn't yours," said Harry. "Snape was Dumbledore's Dumbledore's from the moment you started hunting down my mother. And you never realized it, because of the thing you can't understand. You never saw Snape cast a Patronus, did you, Riddle?"

Snape clasped his hand over his face. Don't tell him. Just . . . don't.

"Snape's Patronus was a doe," said Harry, "the same as my mother's, because he loved her for nearly all of his life, from the time when they were children. You should have realized. He asked you to spare her life, didn't he?"

This was too much. Snape rose from behind the table and strode out, his wand drawn. He wasn't going to stand for his personal life being bantered about. This was exactly why he didn't want to give Harry his memories.

"Enough of this chatter. I'm on a schedule!" Snape hissed, firing a blast at Voldemort who blocked it and fired one back at the Potions master, who also blocked it. It seemed Harry was right. He was protected.

"Not as strong as usual, are you my Lord?" the wizard snarled, "Expelliamus!"

The hex hit Voldemort squarely and the shocked wizard flew back several feet, landing hard on the floor and sliding.

"Stop it!" Harry said, "I want to do this!"

"Then do it, damn you!" Snape hissed at him, "There are people waiting at the Ministry! If we aren't there shortly, they are going to disperse!"

While Snape was talking, Voldemort rose and cast another warming spell on himself, then eased forward, his red eyes on Harry who was scowling darkly at the pale wizard.

"Avada Kedavra!" the wizard cried, the dread green light flying toward Harry.

For a quick second, Snape was moved to push Harry out of the way, but the moment passed. Instead, he fired his own killing curse at the Dark Lord since he was distracted.

Two things happened. The Elder Wand moved of its own accord, blocking the curse and firing it back at Voldemort, connecting with the wizard at the same time Snape's spell hit him. Voldemort writhed in the doubled curse, his scarlet eyes rolling upward, then fell backwards, his arms splayed, dead.

Both Harry and Snape blinked at the dead despot.

"Well, that was rather anti-climatic," Snape commented, "But it worked out better than I expected. Now we can both share the glory of killing the Dark Lord. That ought to be worth a few galleons."

Hermione clambered up from behind the overturned table, the spell finally wearing off. She stormed up to Snape furiously.

"You tell me not to get involved, then you do!" she shouted at him, "How dare you hex me! I didn't even get to see what happened!"

"He died," Snape replied, his mouth quirking

"I can see that!" Hermione hissed, stamping her foot. Then she turned to Harry and ran toward him.

"You're alive!" she cried, hugging the wizard in a burst of emotion as Snape looked on.

It seemed her love for Mr. Potter inspired her to feel as well. Maybe she wouldn't do too badly after all.

"But how, Harry? How did you come back?" she asked him.

"When Voldemort took my blood to rebuild his body, he took my mother's protection and kept it alive. As long as he lived, I couldn't die," Harry explained.

"So he was like a Horcrux too, in a way," Hermione said, looking down at Voldemort's body.

Harry nodded.

"Snape gave me a Port Key and said to use it if anything went wrong. Voldemort was gone when I woke up, so I used it. Then I heard you all fighting and came. Why is it all icy in here?" he asked the witch.

"We had an early frost," Snape snarked, picking up Voldemort's body, slinging it over his shoulder and disapparating.

Harry's eyes bugged out.

"Where'd he go?" he asked Hermione.

"I think to the Ministry. That's where the Order members are waiting. Come on, before he takes all the credit," Hermione said, grabbing Harry's arm and disapparating.

* * *

A/N: Again I've utilized dialogue from DH, paraphrasing it. Thanks for reading. 


	16. The Conclusion

**Chapter 16 The Conclusion**

Harry and Hermione appeared on the steps of the Ministry. Snape was there, Voldemort's corpse on the ground before him.

"Damn it. Where are they?" he breathed.

Behind him, the doors to the Ministry opened and curious employees walked out.

"Hey. What's going on out here?" an Auror asked.

Snape turned to him, the wizard blanching as he saw his Department Head scowling at him.

"I am about to announce a change in regime. You and the other Aurors stand guard," Snape ordered.

"Yes sir," the Auror said, running back inside to pass the order along.

Suddenly Order members began appearing. Snape breathed a sigh of relief. Good, they were here.

Kingsley Shacklebolt looked at the body of Voldemort in disbelief, then at Harry.

"Harry, you did it! You've destroyed the Dark Lord," he said reverently.

Snape scowled.

"WE killed him, Kingsley. Both Mr. Potter and myself with a dual Killing curse. We are equally responsible for his death," the dark wizard said. "Coupled with my brilliant planning, I would say I am the greater hero of the two, and expect my reward to reflect that."

Kingsley shook his head.

"You're something else, Snape. Whatever you want," the wizard said as Aurors exited the building and took up defensive positions around their Department Head.

People began to gather, drawn at first by the great number of wizards and witches in prison uniforms, then crying out in shock as they saw Voldemort's body lying before Snape. People were pouring out of the Ministry building now, the Aurors directing them down the stairs and into the murmuring crowd below. Whispers of "that's Harry Potter. I thought he was dead," could be heard throughout.

Photographers appeared, snapping pictures of the body and Snape, Harry, Hermione and Kingsley.

Snape put the tip of his wand to his throat and amplified his voice.

"Good people. The Dark Lord is no more. He has met his end at the hands of myself and Harry Potter," Snape said to the people, "We will return to the practices and traditions of our world before this despot usurped our society. Amnesty will be offered to all those who have served the old regime, with the exception of those whose crimes are so grave as to warrant Azkaban . . ."

As if on cue, the Ministry doors flew open and an enraged Bellatrix LeStrange exited, screaming at the sight of the dead Dark Lord.

"Snape! You traitorous bastard! I'LL KILL YOU!" she screamed drawing her wand and running forward.

Hermione stuck out her foot and tripped her, sending the witch tumbling head over heels down the long flight of stone stairs where she landed unconscious. Hermione then pulled out her wand and bound her.

"Fuck me with a strap-on will you, you sick bitch," the witch muttered as she tightened the ropes as much as possible.

She then looked at Snape, who nodded and continued as two Aurors dragged Bellatrix away.

"We will have a new Minister of Magic put into place until such time as we can have fair elections. Kingsley Shacklebolt," Snape announced, gesturing towards Kingsley, who nodded soberly.

Cheers went up from the crowd.

"I myself will be retiring from my position of Head of Magical Law Enforcement as soon as a replacement can be found. I've always hated politics," Snape said, then looked at Hermione.

"I must add that Voldemort's demise would not have been possible without the ingenious input and action of Miss Hermione Granger," he added. "She was most important to the successful conclusion of my plans."

More cheers arose from the crowd as Hermione looked at them soberly.

"As for the rest of the story, I am sure Mr. Shacklebolt, Mr. Potter and Miss Granger can fill you in. I've had a long day," the wizard said, then turned to the Aurors. "As of now you are all under the authority of Kingsley Shacklebolt."

The Aurors nodded, a bit relieved. Life was going to be much easier now.

Snape looked at Hermione.

"Goodbye, Miss Granger. Enjoy your life," he said, then disapparated.

* * *

Hermione didn't see much of Snape after that. Ron and the rest of the Weasleys returned from Canada, and Hermione fled wizarding England for a while to stay with her parents, who found her a different person. She wasn't talkative or outgoing anymore. All she did was stay in her room and read and worked a little job at a local market as a cashier. 

It was as if she had lost all her ambition.

Finally, after about six months, Hermione was drawn back to the world she loved. The world of magic. The wizarding world was restored, the Leaky Cauldron once again open as well as the borders. When it was discovered Hermione had returned, a number of dignitaries and official had ceremonies for her, to honor her for her part in bringing down the Dark Lord.

Hermione hated attending them. Everywhere she turned, she saw men who had been former clients, now they were smiling and handing her awards, portraying themselves as upstanding citizens. It was enough to make her sick when they introduced their wives and daughters, inviting her to dine with them.

And Ron, he couldn't understand why Hermione avoided him.

"Hermione, was there someone else? Is that why you won't even talk to me?" he asked her one day when he cornered her in a bookshop.

Hermione couldn't tell him there were a lot of someone elses. Far too many. Finally she told him she was sterile and couldn't have children. He didn't take that well.

"Why did you do that! It was stupid, Hermione! You know I wanted kids. Lots of them," Rod yelled at her.

"You can still have kids, Ron. Just not with me," she said to him calmly.

Ron stared at her.

"My gods, Hermione. What's happened to you? You're nothing like you were in school. Nothing at all. You hardly talk to anyone anymore. Think you're too good for the rest of us because you're a hero?"

"No, it's not that Ronald. It's just all different. Everything has changed for me," she said softly.

Ron stared at her. He still had feelings for Hermione, though her not being able to have children changed everything.

"Hey. We can still be close, Hermione, even if we don't get married," he suggested.

Hermione looked at him.

"Oh you mean shag buddies until the right witch comes along," she said to him, her eyes narrowed.

"Yeah. That's right," he said.

Hermione scowled at him.

"Ron, you're clueless as ever. Just leave me alone, all right. Go live your own life," she said, pushing past him and exiting the shop.

Ron didn't follow her. A couple of years ago he wouldn't have let her walk away. But this Hermione wasn't that Hermione. She was different. Another person all together. That was the end of their personal association.

The witch found herself constantly deluged by requests to make appearances at ribbon cuttings, political gatherings and so-forth, most of them given by wizards she had known carnally. Ever time she turned around she was met with her memories. It was horrible.

She had no one to confide in. She made Harry take an oath never to reveal what she had done. Snape, true to his word, obliviated the details of Hermione's capture from Reginald's mind, though he remembered giving her to the wizard as a gift from the Dark Lord.

Eventually, Hermione began to hate her notoriety, the impositions of the public, the constant meetings with men she knew were less than stellar, some vicious and twisted behind closed doors. She couldn't stand her life anymore. It was just too complicated. She received a generous monthly stipend from the Ministry for her part in destroying Voldemort, as did Harry, who once again picked up with Ginny Weasley, who found him quite a gifted sexual partner.

Hell, he'd had a lot of practice over the past two years. He conveniently kept that to himself however. He did share the details of Snape's true role in the death of Dumbledore, thus clearing the wizard before there ever was an inquiry.

The stipend was enough for Hermione to live modestly without working, and she didn't work. She did nothing but go to ceremonies and give interviews. No matter how much she tried to say no, there were always those hounding her, tracking her down. Even paparazzi following her about trying to dig up something interesting on her.

There was no normal life for Hermione Granger. She feared there never would be again. If this kept up, she'd have to return to the Muggle world. As much a nightmare her life had become, she still loved wizarding England. It was her home.

* * *

Severus Snape was walking to his study when there was a knock on the mansion door. The true owners of the mansion were deceased, and the wizard was allowed to keep it. Freed from his duties at the Ministry, the Snape spent all his time brewing original potions and patenting them, making a nice little living. Plus he got his monthly stipend and quite a substantial one, larger than Harry's and Hermione's combined. 

He had acquired another witch too. Her name was Camille. She was Odessa's polar opposite except in build. She was blonde, buxom and possessed the IQ of a flubberworm. She was much easier to deal with than Odessa. Less conniving and more accommodating. The only thing Snape couldn't stand about her was her tendency to call him "Snapey" no matter how much he told her not to do it. The only reason he didn't take her to task about it was because he sincerely believed she couldn't retain instructions from one day to the next.

But she had great pussy, and could give a hell of a head job. So, it was a trade-off.

Snape walked to the door and opened it, to find Hermione standing there, sober-faced.

He looked down at her.

"I was wondering if you found a witch yet?" she said to the wizard, who cocked his head at her.

"Are you applying for the position?" Snape purred at her.

"If it's open. I mean, you're just one wizard after all and I think peace is going to be the closest I can get to happiness," she said softly, her cool eyes resting on him.

There was no shame or embarrassment in her gaze. Again, Hermione Granger was doing what she felt she had to do to survive. At least here, she wouldn't be bothered. Snape would never allow it. Most likely he would let her assist him in his work as well, and he had a fabulous library. Sleeping with him wouldn't be a problem either. She was already familiar with what the wizard liked.

"Life didn't turn out as normal as you hoped, did it, Miss Granger?" he said.

"No. The public is driving me crazy. I get no peace. And that's all I want," she said.

"Well, you know the conditions I set on witches who stay here," he said to her.

"Yes. I know. I've stayed here before," she replied.

"But not of your own free will. If you stay, it will be just as if you were under my power again," he said silkily, "Same arrangements."

"Better under you than the entire wizarding world," she answered him softly.

The wizard studied her for a moment.

"Come in," he said, stepping aside.

Hermione entered the familiar mansion. Snape walked to the bottom of the stairs.

"Camille!" he bellowed.

After a moment, a blonde in a white catsuit and stilettos appeared at the top of the landing.

"Yes Snapey?" she said in a little girlish voice.

Hermione smirked. Snapey? Oh Merlin.

"Pack your bags. You're leaving," he said.

Camille blinked down at him for a moment, then said, "Okay Snapey," and minced away.

He turned to Hermione who looked as if she wanted to say something he wasn't going to like.

"None of your cheek, witch. She was convenient," he snapped at Hermione, who said nothing. This had the effect of pissing him off worse than if she had said anything.

Hermione Granger was the only witch in the world who could instantly get under his skin without saying a word. And that's just what made their arrangement perfect.

It was quite monogamous and lasted many, many years.

In fact, it lasted a lifetime.

The End

* * *

A/N: Short and relatively sweet ending. Remember this was written just as a short PWP/adventure. Thank you all so much for reading. 


	17. Author Apology

My apologies. I was doing an edit on one of my stories and accidentally uploaded to this one.


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